The Witching Hour presents the Mistress of Slumber

"God damn it!"

I click on my phone screen to see 2:00 am shining at the top. After about an hour and half of restless tossing and turning, it was clear that this was going to be another night of no sleep. That's been most nights recently ever since Paul, my boyfriend of two years, broke up with me and left me all alone.

Tonight has been especially hard, since earlier today I saw him out with some new slut under his arm. It hasn't even been a month since we broke up and he is already out and about fucking god knows who.

I don't even know what happened. One day, he just started talking about how I wasn't "wifey material" and that he didn't see a future for this relationship. Whatever the fuck that means. Probably just code for, "I'm sick of you now and I want to nail a bunch of other girls instead. Also, I never really liked brunettes." Fucking asshole...God I miss him so much.

I've been trying to keep my mind off him but I just can't stop thinking about the girl he was with. I unlock my phone and open up Instagram. Maybe they posted a picture together and I can figure out who she is. Maybe that was just his sister or something. I only really met her a couple times, so I don't really remember what she looks like.

I open his page (he hasn't blocked me yet) and start scrolling through his most recent photos. Nothing. He hasn't posted at all since we broke up actually. Which means all I find are old pictures of us...

Uuuuuuugghh. I need to get up. I need to do something else. I can't keep going like this. No chance I am sleeping tonight.

I roll over and plant my legs on the ground. I use my phone's flashlight to look around the floor for some clothes. I sleep naked, a habit I picked up when Paul first started sleeping over, but I do have a roommate that probably wouldn't appreciate me wandering nude around our shared living space.

I eventually find an extra-large t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. I'm not sure when I wore them last but they should be fine until I have to change before work. I stand up from my bed, step over the miscellaneous clutter on the floor out into the hallway.

It's a one-floor apartment with a reasonably sized central shared living space and a kitchenette off to the side. My room is the master bedroom at the end of a long hallway that branches off from the living room. My roommate, Trisha, sleeps in the room on the right side of the hall with our shared bathroom on the left.

I creep past her door on my way to the living room. I walk towards the kitchenette and grab a soda from the fridge. I softly click it open then flop on the couch in front of the tv. I use my flashlight again to find the remote on the coffee table.

We have a pretty nice tv. It is one of those fancy smart TVs that let you download all of the streaming apps directly to it. Trisha doesn't mind if I hang out in the living room at night as long as I keep the volume down. She is a pretty heavy sleeper, but I preemptively turn down the volume to be safe.

I open Netflix and a wave of emotion washes over me. The homepage is filled with pages and pages of shows Paul and I had started watching together. I take a deep breath. I can do this. He can't be on my mind forever. It's just tv! It doesn't have to be about him.

I scroll further down. Maybe I could just start something new? It's late, but there has to be something to take my mind off things.

Row after row tied to the now shattered relationship. Anime, sitcoms, true crime documentaries...even comfort shows I had seen a million times before felt bitter by the memories of showing them to Paul for the first time. It's all too much. Tears start to well up in my eyes.

I close the app and take a few deep breaths. God damn it! I can't even watch Netflix without thinking of him. Why is this so fucking hard?

I try to pull myself together by returning to the homescreen when I notice a new icon had been downladed recently.

MCTV emboldened in big blocky letters on a black and white background. The contrasting colors cross and alternate into a weird swirl behind the logo. I had never heard of it. Did Trisha add this? It was technically her TV so I guess she can do what she wants, but I feel like she usually tells me about the new stuff she has been watching. I tentatively click enter on the remote.

The app opens up to a show already going on. It doesn't look like much. Just some footage of a forest late at night. The picture is super grainy and not at all formatted for our modern television. The moon shines brighter than I have ever seen in real life, reflecting off a dense fog that wraps around the trees. The whole scene is covered in a dull dark blue as what looks like ducks swim in a pond off in the distance.

I press the info button on the remote and all it says is, "The Witching Hour..."

As I'm about to start looking for something else, a woman rises out from the thick, white fog, wearing an equally white shoulder-less dress with long dangling sleeves. Her skin is pale and radiant. Somehow glowing softly in the dark of night. Her face is soft and gentle. Despite the low picture quality, I can see dozens of freckles decorating her face, giving her a slightly more youthful appearance despite probably being around my age. She has long firey red hair with wavy curls that flow past her shoulders. A bright silver circlet wrapped around her neck containing a deep green emerald that matches the color of her eyes.

"Good evening and welcome." She says, her voice thick with a heavy Irish accent. "The sun has long passed. We sit deep in the radiant powers of the moon and the stars. The Witching Hour is upon us. I will be your guide for the evening. My name is Aislin, but you may call me, the mistress of slumber"

Slumber, huh...something about her is almost ethereal. Her entirely pale figure appearing to float atop the fog like a ghost in the mist.

"It is no mere coincidence that you have discovered my domain, as I only appear before those most in need of my power. You must be an especially weary wanderer to be visiting me at this time of night. Perhaps mourning the loss of a lover?"

A faint "Yes," escapes my lips.

"I thought as much," she seems to reply, "the loss of someone dear to you is always so difficult. No longer able to feel the serenity in their touch. The lack of comfort from their warm body as they hold you at night. It is always so so tragic."

Paul wasn't dead...but I do miss him. It feels like she is talking directly to me, but that can't be right. I barely even said anything. I know that she said it isn't but it has to just be a coincidence, right?

"The veil between life and **** lay at its thinnest during this time of night. Allowing us to communicate with the spirits of the other side. Feel them flowing all around you. Wrapping us in the warm glow of their power. Breathe deep. Feel the fumes of the spirit world enter your lungs. Warm and blissful as you exhale."

I find myself complying, taking deep full breaths as she speaks.

"The power of dreams also becomes especially potent at this time of night." She begins dancing in the fog, moving and manipulating the haze as she sways. The sleeves of her dress dangle. I feel strange calm wash over me her sway in the fog.

"Codladh, codladh, a chailín. Lig do mo cheol d’intinn a líonadh." She sings in a some foreign language I don't recognize. I serene smile across her face as she sings.

Her voice is serene and beautiful. Gliding faintly from the tv speakers. I have no idea what she is saying, but the tones of her voice are incredibly soothing. I start to wonder if Trisha can hear what's going on, but the thought slips away as I suddenly feel myself struggling to sit upright.

"Brionglóid, brionglóid fúm. Is é mo ghrá gach a bhfuil uait. Tit codladh suaimhneach go domhain."

My eyes flutter shut and I collapse on the couch. Her song continues to flowing in the background though I can no longer really focus on what she is saying, as my mind drifts off and I fall asleep.

I'm feel like I'm floating. Floating in a pool or lake or something. Gentle waves pulsing underneath me as I bob up and down along the water. I start to drift off into a distant dream.