Night

The light flicks off, and through my closed eyelids I see the golden, comforting glow of the bulb drift away into the black tunnel of my imagination.
In the dark, my room is someplace else. On good days, it was the wings I flew with over hills and valleys and white drifting clouds. On bad days it was the demon under the bed, and the man walking slowly, cautiously up the creaking staircase.

Today was a bad day.

Through the open door of my wardrobe, I see my hanging coats, shoes lined up in pairs underneath, and hats placed on the invisible shelf. I see people. They stand there, just waiting, their nonexistent faces staring out through the wall beside me, the shoes never walk, the hats never tip, and the coats are never shrugged onto shoulders, but they're there, I know it.

I'm afraid to move. If I roll over, I'm afraid the squeaking springs on my mattress will alert the man, the coal black man waiting on the landing. He stands there all night. One sign of life, and he'll come barging in and will silence me. I've never met him before, but he's there, I know it.

The shadows stretch onto my floor, glistening columns of moonlight filter through the eerie curtains. I see the mound of laundry that I was menat to sort. The silhouette of the pile forces the image of a hunchback into my mind.

I look away, and find myself mesmerized by the elegant 'cirque du soleil' mask gazing at me through empty hollows of eyes. The jewels wink at me and my heart thumps against my pajamas. I'm sure the sound would wake up the cat, black and slinky at the foot of my bed. Then she'd blink at me with sparkling pupils like full moons and perhaps stalk away for her witch.

My comforting teddies are in threatening poses, their arms stretched out. In the sunlight, they'd be begging for a hug, but now their grins are evil, and their paws are itching to smother me... It's too much, way too much. I need to go pee! But my footsteps will only awaken the army of rats with glinting ruby eyes. Then they'd all scream as they come in a massive furry wave, thousands of nails click-clacking on the floor.

If I made it out of there, I'd only be faced with the nocturnal Loch Ness Monster which I'm sure has found it's way to New Zealand and up our toilet! Beads of sweat race down my forehead like the Jaffas in the Jaffa race. I would have found if amusing, but all I see is a sea of thick, oozy blood pouring down the read.

My own scream wakes me up. I just have time to register the quick pattering of the man on the landing, coming for me! Before the door clicks open and the figure looms towards me. I gasp, he's got something in his hand! Metal ! A knife! 'Argh!' I choke, I struggle out of my duvet. Too late. He grasps my arm in a firm grip and the other hand holding the thing rises, before the torch's beam lights up the face of the man. Dad.

"Hello!" he says cheerfully. "Just came to check on you, think you had a nightmare."