Scent Notes: A dark forest full of cherrywood, black hemlock, sandalwood, and wormwood, crushed cardamom pods, benzoin, honeyed whiskey.

“Mommy, HELP!” Elias called, needing yet another kiss goodnight, or bedtime book, or potty trip, or whatever else would stall the inevitable, horrible nightly routine of having to do the most boring thing for a toddler to do: go to sleep. Shirley was touched-out, exhausted, ready for 30 minutes of alone time before she either stayed up too late cleaning, or fell asleep on the couch until 4am, when she’d wake up and clean until Elias woke up. The joys of single motherhood! She was trying to eat Elias’s leftover dinner, which he’d barely touched, and was getting up what felt like every three seconds to try to get him to go to sleep. She walked back into his room once again. “Hey, if you want to switch and be the mom and stay up and clean, that’s fine. Mommy would LOVE to go to sleep.” She acted as if she was going to crawl into his bed and stay there, sending him into a fit of giggles, which became tickles, and finally, cuddling. Well, as much cuddling as she could do with half of her body on the floor. “Thanks, mommy,” Elias said, snuggling down. “Stay here?” Shirley sighed internally, but didn’t let it show. “Sure, honey, I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.” Elias smiled and snuggled down further. Immediately, Shirley’s body protested having to be on the floor. She’d heard stories about how people regularly fell asleep while putting their kids to bed, but she’d never been able to. She just wasn’t comfortable in this room. True, it was a cheap apartment building and had probably had thousands of tenants, but something about Elias’s room in particular was unsettling to her at night. But what could she do? She couldn’t afford to move; she was a single mom working part-time to (barely) support the two of them, and just having a weird feeling about a room wasn’t exactly a reason to move from an otherwise perfectly adequate and safe apartment. 

A few minutes passed, and Elias’s breathing evened, then deepened, and he was finally, finally asleep. Shirley quietly got up, snuck out, and closed the door with a sigh. She looked around the apartment. It was not a cleaning night. She finished Elias’s leftovers and poured herself a shot of honey whiskey over a generous amount of ice. She didn’t usually drink much, but after what felt like weeks of nonstop “Mommyyyyy,” she needed a damn drink. Sipping it slowly on the couch, she turned on some random true crime program and, just as she finished the drink, she fell asleep on the couch. She was in a dark, dank forest, yelling Elias’s name over and over, unable to find him. She ran, searching under every branch, to no avail. It felt like hours of crawling, running, searching, the deep fear setting in that she’d never see her boy again. Suddenly, in the forest, there was a door. She opened it, cautiously, and walked into … her living room. She saw herself on the couch, asleep, in the same dirty apartment she lived in, the same TV show playing, the same toys and dishes and signs of life everywhere. Then she heard what sounded like two boys playing in Elias’s room. No one child could make that much noise! But Elias had never had a friend over; he’d only ever played in his room with her or alone. Frightened and confused, she walked to Elias’s door and knocked. The noise stopped immediately. “Elias, honey, are you in there?” Shirley opened the door and saw just Elias, sleeping in his bed, still absolutely passed out. Little kids aren’t exactly good at faking sleep. She checked his breathing, looked around the room. It all looked normal, but that creepy feeling she got in his room was mounting. Something wasn’t right. She stroked his hair, started to gently wake him up. “Honey, are you alright?” she asked him as he woke up. Elias yawned and nodded. “Fine, mommy.” “Did you hear all that noise?” Elias looked straight into her eyes, seeming suddenly fully awake. “Yes, mommy. Other Elias was playing with me.” The color went out of Shirley’s face. “What did you say?” Elias looked over her shoulder and answered her again. “The other Elias was playing with me.” His little finger pointed behind her. Shirley’s heart started racing; that terrible feeling she got in his room was overpowering, if she turned around, she’d see this other Elias, she’d see….

Shirley woke with a start on the couch, terrified, panting. She looked at the clock; it had barely been two hours since she’d fallen asleep. “Holy fucking shit,” she said to herself, trying to calm down: It was just a dream. Just a dream. It wasn’t real. Everything was fine. After a few minutes of measured breathing, her heart rate was normal again, and she got up and checked on Elias. He was asleep, totally fine, and she didn’t even bother trying to reenact her nightmare by waking him up. Instead, she cleaned the house and resolved to stop watching all true crime shows, at least, no more right before bed, and definitely not while mixed with alcohol. She didn’t sleep any more that night, and had already had most of a pot of coffee by the time Elias was up. He noticed right away how tired she was. “Mommy, did you sleep?” She smiled at him as he climbed onto the couch next to her. “Not really, honey, but that’s ok. I hope you slept well!” Elias’s face changed, as if the lighting in the room had shifted, though it hadn’t. He looked serious, older, almost like a different kid altogether. He stared directly into her eyes when he answered her. “No, mommy. The other Elias said I would never sleep again.”

Scent Notes: A dark forest full of cherrywood, black hemlock, sandalwood, and wormwood, crushed cardamom pods, benzoin, honeyed whiskey.