Why Did I Write “Night Terrors?”

First, there was a short story contest—and I wanted to enter.

Second, I had been having night terrors for over a year.

These weren’t just bad dreams. I hadn’t watched any scary movies or eaten pizza at midnight. They just… started. Sure, I’ve had vivid dreams before, but I always knew they were dreams. These experiences were different—terrifying in a way that felt real.

I began reviewing my daily routine to figure out what might be triggering them. Nothing had changed—at least, not obviously. So I micro-scrutinized my habits. One detail stood out.

We all know the warnings about too much screen time. I used my devices for work, of course—but what about playtime? I had been going to bed early, using the quiet time to read. But the night terrors didn’t stop. That’s when I realized it wasn’t just what I was reading, but how I was reading.

I’m extremely nearsighted, and I often read on my iPad without glasses. For years, I’d noticed a swirling, strobing effect in my vision after shutting off the device—shades of yellow-green pulsing in the dark. But eventually, it escalated.

Waking up, I’d see glowing letters—shapes like Chinese script—or, worse, someone standing in my room.

Of course, I screamed.

These weren’t the usual dream fragments. They felt physical, present. One in particular—a pale face, gray-and-white shirt, and a chilling hiss—left me in tears. After that, I started sleeping with a light on.

The good news: I no longer have night terrors.

I’ve used Kindles since the early 2000s, so why now? Maybe age. (Isn’t everything?) But I do think the iPad’s backlight was affecting not just my eyes but my brain.

Still, I couldn’t shake the spiritual weight of it all. I’ve always believed that the enemy preys on vulnerability. Ancestral spirits, generational oppression, or unclean attachments don’t need a dramatic invitation—just a small crack. Sometimes, the strongest link in a person’s spirit is the one the enemy wants most to break.

When you’re spiritually unguarded, especially in times of stress, the mind becomes a battlefield. For me, that battlefield showed up in the darkness of my room.

So I began fighting back—with truth. I stopped using the iPad at night and switched to paper books or my old second-gen e-Ink Kindle. The hallucinations stopped. But I still felt unsettled.

That’s when I began praying every night before bed, reading a portion of Scripture and declaring God’s peace over my mind and home. That small shift—speaking life and truth into the quiet—brought real peace.

I poured all of this into a short story called Night Terrors. It became the most cathartic thing I’ve written. I still sleep with a dim light on—but now, it’s just so I don’t trip in the dark. Not because I’m afraid of what I might see.

Click here to read the full Night Terrors short story.