Going to sleep was something I started to hate since I was five.

It's not because I always wanted to play…

It's also not because I would rather do other things…

But it was because of fear.

Fear of seeing that same faceless boy, I saw every time I closed my eyes since I was five.

His piercing cries echoes in my head all day.

The way he sounded so trapped, isolated and helpless always got to me.

It scared me for everything felt so real.

They said it was just a dream – that I will sooner or later forget it…

13 years… and not a single night had I gotten sleep without dreaming of the faceless boy

Then it happened.

My 18^th birthday… There were no dreams

I thought it was finally over.

I thought I could forget the faceless boy.

But days later… I dreamt again…

This time, he wasn't faceless anymore… he was dead.