I wish it weren't true but I do know how long he's been there--since before I can remember. I know this because every week or so when I do get enough sleep I have nightmares. Nightmares on Memorial Drive, Nightmares on Woodland, Nightmares in Deseret V Tower, Nightmares on Damsel Drive...
The most recent of which involves the reoccurring theme of my hometown and a serial killer that I can identify. Naturally that means he wants my head removed. Fortunately I have not been beheaded in my sleep. Unfortunately I've wrecked my brother's new car, been turned in a blue box that was dying, and sewed my niece's arm back on. Don't you all wish this is where your creativity took you.
But this could be an improvement from my childhood torture. Then I shared a room with my sisters and about once a week I woke up just certain that they really did turn into gremlins like I'd dreamt. It was absolute courage and stupidity that allowed me to shriek so they'd too wake up and I could climb into bed with them. Keep your enemies closer? Close enough to eat me.
Gremlins I couldn't fight, their boiled skin creeped me out. Serial killers? I fight with needle and thread.
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