“But I don’t want to go to bed, the man with no eyes is waiting for me in the closet!”

Clark Davidson sighed in exasperation. “Baby, we’ve talked about this, remember?”

His daughter looked up at him wet eyes. “I know, but-“

Clark rests a hand on little Amelia’s shoulder and gently squeezes, cutting her off. “No buts, okay? The man with no eyes isn’t real, and you’re mom and are going to keep you safe.

Amelia sniffles and nods, but the twisting of her little hands gives away her uncertainty, and her eye repeatedly darted to the closet. Clark knew what she wanted him to do; what he couldn’t do.

A desperate frustration builds in Clark’s chest. It had been a week since he’d had a full night of uninterrupted sleep. Maybe the therapist was right, that giving in to Amelia’s compulsive checking would only validate her fears, but Clark was exhausted. He shouldn’t check the closet. But if he didn’t, Amelia would wake them up in the middle of the night again. He and his wife would have to soothe her, and then he would have to change out Amelia’s piss-soaked sheets. After that, Amelia would refuse to go back to her own room, and Clarke’s wife would give in and let her sleep in their bed. And after all of that, Clark would’nt be able to get back to sleep, and he’d be forced to start the next day and do the whole thing over. Again.

The responsible part of Clark tells him to obey the therapist. Endure the hours of lost sleep for the sake of his daughter’s wellbeing. But the overworked and sleep deprived part of Clark demands rest, and he cannot be denied.

Despite the little tug of guilt in his gut, Clark gives his daughter a weak smile. “Would it make you feel better if I checked the closet?”

Amelia’s face brightens with hopeful surprise. “Really, daddy?”

“Yeah, baby, come on.”

Amelia hides behind her father’s legs as moved to the closet. He opens it, and as always, it’s empty.

Putting Amelia to bed is easy after that. The nervous energy melts out her, and her eyes droop as he kisses her goodnight. Clark leaves to his own room, and the reassurance of a good night’s sleep already makes him feel better rested.

Amelia closes her eyes and snuggles into her covers. A twinge of anxiety and a need for reassurance remains, but it’s dulled by a sleepy haze. Before long, her breathing becomes slow and steady.

The “man-with-no-eyes” begins to regain its shape. Rematerializing is slower and more taxing this time, and the creature is hungrier than it’s been in a long time. It will need more of the girl than it has taken the nights before. It weakly shambles to the girl’s bed, and begins to feed.

Clark wakes up to the sound of his alarm clock, and for the first time that week, he feels fully rested. He hums to himself as he gets out of bed and starts his morning routine. He makes himself breakfast, and by the time he’s finished his coffee, it’s time to wake Amelia for school. He sets aside some scrambled eggs for Amelia before heading to her room.

When he opens her door, Amelia is still fast asleep. He notices a small puddle of drool on her pillow as he comes closer, and a pang of affection makes him chuckle.

He shakes her gently. “Wake up, sleepyhead, it’s time to get ready for school.”

Amelia’s face scrunches in protest, but with a bit more coaxing, her eyes begin to slowly open.

For a moment, Clark thinks he must be imaging things, or still dreaming. But moments pass, and what sees stays the same, and he screams.

Amelia has no eyes, and she is hungry.