Yellow Eyes

I was seven or eight years old at the time and even though I had my own room, I preferred to sleep in my parents' room. My parents had a queen-sized bed. My mom slept on the right side, and my dad slept on the left. I usually had a mattress on the floor on my mom's side.

My dad was president of an organization, and usually came home from meetings around three in the morning. I always woke up whenever he came home, because the dogs downstairs would whine in excitement at my dad's arrival.

Every time he came home late, I would sit up and watch his silhouette in the darkness. He had a routine before going to bed - He would stand next to his side of the bed, place his wallet and jewelry on the end table, get into his pajamas, and then gently slide into bed- This was something I have watched numerous times as a child. It gave me comfort knowing that he was home safe and sound. His routine usually took about five minutes, and then I would hear the rustling of the bed sheets, signaling that he was all tucked and ready to knock out.

This time it was different.

He came home late from a meeting again, and I watched him do part of his routine, and then I decided to lie back down and just listen. I was waiting for the sound of the rustling sheets but it never came. So, I sat back up to see what my dad was doing, and saw that he was just standing next to his bed. I stared as he just stood there, unmoving. Usually, I could only see his silhouette, but this time I could actually see his eyes. The pair of eyes staring back at me was yellow, yes yellow! I stared into those pair of yellow eyes that glowed weakly in the dark room. It took a while for me to realize that this wasn't normal. Why were daddy's eyes glowing? Movement on my parents' bed brought me out of my daze. It suddenly hit me. My dad was already in bed, snoring! I did a double take and there were indeed two people on the bed; my mom and my dad. I didn't even bother to wonder who the other person was, because at this point I was terrified. I couldn't even scream, and I didn't dare look back at the pair of yellow eyes. I just hid under my blanket, and prayed that whatever it was would go away. I remember not being able to go back to sleep. Instead, I waited for the sun to rise, and fill the room with light that would blind those pair of yellow eyes.

Ever since that happened, I developed a habit of covering myself with a heavy blanket from head to toe, because it made me feel secure. I did this even when it got too hot and I would start sweating like crazy. Eventually, it got better during my teenage years (I am 22 now). I pull the covers up enough to cover the back of my head, leaving my face exposed to breathe.