Darkness settles in as I close my eyes and prepare for sleep. Hours pass until I am suddenly shaken and woken by a loud and terrible shriek. My eyes open slowly and presented to me is only the white ceiling above. I listen intently for any sound to make an appearance, and then as I can hear nothing but my slow and heavy breathing I lay back my head on the soft pillow and close my eyes.

I wake up early in the morning, feeling very weary and go back to sleep. But my eyes remain open and I seem to be unable to close my them. It doesn’t concern me that much; I’m a pretty careless person. I try as hard as I can to fall asleep again.
A cold wind rouses me from my sleep light sleep. I raise my head and turn to the blinding light springing from the window on the opposite end of the room and notice that it’s open. I feel certain that I had closed it last night and a small fear starts building up inside me, though I am unsure why. I lift my feet up from the bed and slowly move them onto the cold floor. I take the time to put on my clothes; pants, socks, shirt and sweater and then I get up on my feet. I take slow and heavy steps against the icy cold wind blowing in from the open window and close it. The blazing sun and bright sky burn my eyes, and as was before I can’t close my eyes, so I quickly turn away. I walk to the door and step out into the hall. None of the lights have been turned on, telling that I am most likely the first to wake up. I make no effort to walk to the light switch to turn on the lights as I still find myself unable to close my eyes and the light would become unbearable if I couldn’t blink every once in a while.
I head for the kitchen and take a seat in front of the breakfast table. Realizing I can’t prepare my breakfast sitting down, I get up from the chair. I get some milk from the fridge, a bowl from a cupboards and a spoon from a drawer and put it all down on the table. Lastly I pick up the packet of cornflakes from one of the cupboards and also put that down on the table and sit myself in the chair. I pour the cornflakes in without much thought and accidentally spill some on the table. Same goes for the milk, I could just as well eat it straight off the table.
Five minutes later - I wasn’t really in a hurry - I take a trip to the bathroom. I open the door and step inside. No lights of course, and I don’t turn them on, of course. I do my thing in the toilet and then head for the sink, wash my hands thoroughly with soap and water and then dry them with the towel hanging on the wall, and then take a look in the mirror, and I feel a shiver travel down my spine:

“I notice then the reason for the heat in my eyes.
It seems I am missing a pair,
my eyelids are gone.
“How, why, who?” I ask.
What have I done to deserve such pain?”

I recite, rather shocked at my lack of skill in poetry.
A cold and frightening then voice booms behind me:

“You call this pain, I call it penalty.
Early this morning I saw you sleeping
while you should have been studying for your exams,
such a shock it was that I emitted a shriek,
at that you woke and I made my exit,
waited till you slept again and cut them both away.”

I turn around, though I know full well whose voice that was, to face my angry mother, who speaks again:

“Now begin your studies,
or I’ll cut a pair more precious.”

I bow my head in shame, then walk out of the bathroom and start studying.