The Sandman's Curse

I moaned and slammed my hand down on the blasting alarm clock. "Ugggggghhhhh," six in the morning. already? I flung an arm over my face and blinked, attempting in vain to shield my eyes from the dreaded morning sun that was sneaking through the drapes.

Source

"Nooooo, just five more minutes," I pleaded to no one in particular, trying to return to the blessed escape of sleep. But it was no use - my mind was already firing up, nagging thoughts and to-do lists invading what was left of my tranquil slumber.

I reluctantly pulled off the warm sheets and sat down on the edge of the bed, my body going limp. I wiped my heavy lids and squinted at the mess on my nightstand and dresser: phones, chargers, half-drunk water cups, lost change, and other items creating an island of mess.

"Man, I must have been thoroughly zonked to let it get this messy," I muttered, reaching down to scoop up a crumpled t-shirt from the floor. As I did, a loud THUMP from beneath the bed made me jump.

"Wha...?" I froze, holding the bundled shirt cautiously in front of me like a shield.

"Down here!" I screamed in shock as a muffled voice shot out from beneath the bed frame. I stumbled backwards, reaching for anything to protect myself, like a book, a lamp, or one of the water cups that had been left behind.

"Who's there?!" I shouted shakily, glaring at the sweeping dust ruffle and wielding the t-shirt menacingly.

"Who do you think it is, dummy?" The annoyed voice retorted. "It's me - the Sandman. The keeper of dreams and nightmares. Cursed to roam this earthly realm, unappreciated and unseen!"

A small figure emerged then, floating up from the hazy shadows with an irritated scowl. He appeared to be an elderly man with a bulbous belly, saggy pale skin and wispy white hair protruding from beneath a dingy red cap and matching robe. He carried a mini burlap sack draped over his shoulder and twirled a gnarled wand with impatient strokes.

"The Sand...man?" I repeated in disbelief. "Like, the mythical spirit? From the bedtime stories?"

"The one and only!" He snapped, giving his wand an aggressive shake that produced a tiny puff of shimmering sand. "Though I much prefer 'Dream Keeper' to that infantile nickname."

"Okayyyy," I replied slowly, eyeing him warily and gripping the t-shirt tighter. "And, uh, mind telling me exactly why you're hanging out under my bed this fine morning? That's a new one, even for me."

The cranky spirit huffed in annoyance, folding his spindly arms across his chest. "Because you consistently abuse and disrespect my craft, that's why! Your erratic obsession with altering, shortchanging, and disregarding the sleep cycle - it's an outright assault on my life's work!"

I blinked dumbly a few times before replying. "My...sleep habits? Dude, I'm just a tired adult trying to make it in this world. I stay up late working, stressing about bills, scrolling on my phone - isn't that normal these days?"

"Normal?!" The Sandman exploded, his shrill voice echoing shrilly through the small bedroom. With a swish of his wand, he began pacing back and forth with agitated steps.

"Normal is waking naturally with the sun, not an electronic banshee screeching in your ears! Normal is maintaining a consistent sleep routine in harmony with your body's needs, not bingeing Netflix into the wee hours or guzzling insomnia-inducing caffeinated beverages all hours of the day and night!"

He whirled on me then, jutting his wand out accusingly. "You're a chronic disrupter of sleep, young lady! A willful insomniac! You wear that as a badge of honor in this fast-paced, sleepless society, but let me be clear -you are actively undermining and disrespecting my ancient powers and the traditions I've maintained for eons!"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, slightly intimidated by this frantic entity. He swiftly continued his bizarre rant.

"Night after night, I sprinkle my magic slumber sands across weary eyes and restless minds, carefully lulling humanity into the sweet escape of dreams. It's a delicate, tedious routine - helping regulate REM cycles, doling out the perfect balance of reverie and rest. But you?" He glared daggers at me, clutching his wand so hard his knuckles turned white.

"You and your wilful sleep deprivation cock-a-snobby attitude spits directly in the eye of my work! With your erratic sleeping patterns, you make a mockery of the traditions and rules I've upheld for eons. You ungrateful, unappreciative, disobedient wretch!"

By this point the strange little man was practically shaking with indignation, sputtering bits of shimmering sand from the corners of his mouth. I shrank back, genuinely unnerved by this venomous outburst over some missed shut-eye. Who knew the stuff of nursery rhymes could be so terrifying?

The Sandman took a few heaving breaths, hitching his sagging robe back over his shoulder as he visibly composed himself. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously calm and quiet.

"So as punishment for your blatant disregard of proper sleeping habits...I'm hitting you with an eternal stomach ache!"

"Wait, what?!" I cried out. But it was too late - with a menacing cackle, the Sandman gave his wand a whirling flourish, launching a sparkling cloud of magic sand directly at my face. It hit me smack in the mouth and nostrils, the cloying scent of cinnamon choking my senses as I sputtered and choked. Gasping for air, I fanned my hands in front of my face, watching in horror as the Sandman floated backwards towards the window with a twisted smile.

"This is your penance, heathen sleeper!" He crowed victoriously. "I curse thee with a chronic case of the pubescent 'bedroom brownies,' if you will. May your guts forever rumble and your bottom continuously burn! You'll learn to appreciate the sweet bliss of slumber yet..."

With those bizarre parting words, the Sandman threw open the window with a dramatic flourish and flew off into the morning sky on a crisp spring breeze, leaving me hunched on the floor and praying this wasn't just the worst case of food poisoning ever.