short scary story::
“How I lost my habit” via @slushcrunch
When I was a kid, my parents always made it a point I slept according to my curfew. Because of this I learned how to pretend to sleep. They'd come in, flick the light on, and see their son lying in bed, asleep. They'd close the light, I'd wait a bit, then open my eyes to see that they had gone to bed.
That was until my 14th birthday. They were still strict about my curfew. They'd come in, flick the light on, and find their son passed out after all that daily puberty. The lights would flick off, I'd wait a bit, and then... I opened my eyes. The dark sillhouette of my mother was standing in the doorway, back illuminated by the hallway light; her front and face, a pitch black. "You should be sleeping, little one." I apologized.
It wasn't long after that I developed the skill to appear asleep but have partial vision. If you were to look at me, you'd think my eyes were closed, but they're just open enough that I could see only a slight blur, but plenty detailed to practically see.
One night I tested it.
Mother entered the room, flicked on the light, saw I was "sleeping", flicked the light off, then stood there. From my seemingly closed eyes, I could see her sillhouette standing there, the darkness consuming any distinguishing feature. Soon she left and I could hop back on my phone.
I carried the habit through to my adulthood. One night, I lied awake next to my wife, unable to sleep, while she happily snored away. As I lied there a few hours, I finally noticed that my wife stopped snoring. I peeked like I usually did and I found her just lying there, staring at me with big, wide, unblinking eyes. "You should be sleeping, little one." She whispered in a low rasp. My mother had died a few years ago. I don't open my eyes when I try to sleep now.