1 CORRAN DARBY

'The boy who sleep of ghost'

Tick.. tick.. tick

The sound were almost bearable as it is functional. It's been ticking for almost half an hour as I have been sitting anxiously in Dr. Stevenson's office. And clearly waiting for him to meet me. But he wasn't here and gone for a meeting so his secretary have told me to sit idly but the ticking sound of the metronome makes me antsy whenever I visit. It was relaxing at some point when Dr Stevenson's around it makes me stay in focus, but it was the opposite when you're alone in a couch. Time have already come and go but Dr Stevenson-- a 46 year old man with balding blonde hair and obvious pot-belly hasn't arrive yet.

'Maybe.. he wouldn't meet me today'

I thought as I stared blanky on the painted walls of his office. It was white and very clinic-ly design. From it's white coated walls until the marble flooring that seems to lack of luster. Assuming that it hadn't been vacuume nor mop. Which makes it more depressing. I wasn't talking about the lack of hygiene but the way that this room carries itself. It wasn't neat nor dirty but it was too quiet and formal. And because of that order it makes me want to get out and never came back again. I really wish that I could. But I had some issues that only professionals could tend

I have been experiencing Parasomnia for almost four months now. It sometimes happens when I was six years old but now at the age of fifteen that seems somewhat unlikely. Especially in the daily basis. My parents described that I sometimes scream in the middle of the night or sleep walk through the entire house and sometimes I even got outside. But what my parents couldn't explain were the marking on my body. They appeared to be scratches or bruises that even I couldn't remember where I got them even the dreams were long forgotten. My parents used to think my mother in particular that I was being posessed, she used to bring me to every devoted christian churches the small town of Kal'en could offer until my father's co-worker introduce us to Dr. Daniel Stevenson. My Psychiatrist.

He stated that I was suffering from REM Sleep Behaviour Disorder or what they called it as Parasomnia. He said that it was only natural to young teens like me because most of our generation have been diagnosed with stress and depression which might trigger to other health related problems. Like mine. So here I am. Waiting for almost an hour for my doctor that looks like it never gonna happen. So I decided to pack myself to leave when the door of his office opens.

"Ah! Mr Darby sorry that you have to wait for that long. I have a meeting with the other doctors. Nothing in particular just medical related topics that you might aswell wouldn't undertand" He said as he take a sit on his chair. "So how's it going?"

"Fine at least" I said. Unbeknown to what really to answer. As he look at me deeply on the eye.

"Hmm.. so how's your sleep. Is it ok... Is it good or is it extremely good? " He chuckles at his own humor as he started ramaging to his desk drawer and pull out his glasses inside it.

"I wouldn't say good. But it was nice I guest" I sad honestly. Thinking back that I wasn't really dreaming like I used to do. It was a sleep in utter darkness. Like I have just close my eyes and pass by time. It's alright though. Atleast I wouldn't have to wake up in cold sweat nor wake up in our lawn again.

"So tell me, how does the pills work for you" He said as his gray and aged eyes stared at me as if he was undressing my whole body to see my soul perfectly. It was both weird when I think of it that way. So as compensation with my weird antics I averted my eyes and answer him as honestly as I could. "It's ok I guest. My parents get to sleep peacefully these past few weeks. And my body seems to get a lot stronger too"

"Good to hear. The medicines seems to be working. Keep it up until you wouldn't need these pills anymore" He said as he took out another cylinder contained pills and hand it to me.

'SleepGo380 manufactured by Curable inc.'

I read the name softly as I stand up and hand him the payment. It was a short talk and a bland one but thank goodness It was finally over. Although I have to come by every twice a month to make a monthly check up. Atleast I wouldn't get to see his bland office and his irritating metronome for the rest of my days.

I went back home and gave my parents the receipt that they usually ask. There wasn't something about it but I guest it is natural for parents to care most of the things their child went through.

"So what did you and Dr. Stevenson talk about" My mom ask me the moment I walk into the kitchen. She was wearing a formal dress for this evening. I didn't have to ask where she was going. Not that I'm not accustomed to this arrangement every friday night.

"Nothing in particular just medical related stuff that you might aswell wouldn't understand" I said repeating Dr Stevenson earlier. I know it wasn't a valid answer but that was the only thing that my brain caught up when she ask me so randomly. Not wanted to be rude. So I smile at my mother shyly and give her a side hug with a kiss on her forehead. At this age I seems to be taller than her for almost a quarter. So it was easy for me to do so.

"Goodnight mom.. don't worry for myself too much. I'm fine, you know I do"

"Ok. go to bed now... and sweety tell your father to come down please. Thank you" She said as I bolted upstairs.