She sat on the overstuffed beige couch, legs pulled to one side; head nestled against her mother’s soft shoulder. She normally looked forward to the Sunday night ritual of watching re-runs of America’s Got Talent or The Voice. This evening all Justine could think of was the tick of the clock as it inched closer to the hour mark. A scowl, a lifted brow and a deep sigh brought no response from her mother who was captivated, eyes intently staring at the latest daredevil performer vying for a chance in Las Vegas. Click, click, click, sounded the clock’s metal hands as seconds turned into minutes; there was no escaping the inevitable turn of time.
It was always there. Stealthily creeping closer, beckoning her to acknowledge its existence, calling her to its side. Justine buried her head deeper into her mother’s warm body, hoping she’d find protection, yet knowing there was none.
“Come on baby, time for bed.”
The child’s eyes grew wide as she heard the clock’s ninth chime.
“Mamma, may I stay up just a little bit more, I’m not tired at all.” Justine conjured up the most pitiful, sorrowful face, wanting so much for her mother to give in to her wishes.
“Sorry sweetie. You have school tomorrow and we can’t have you falling asleep in class. Now go brush your teeth and wash your face. I’ll be there shortly to tuck you in.”
With a deep moan, Justine rose from the couch and padded into the bathroom located between her bedroom and her parents’ room. She could feel its presence waiting outside the bathroom door. Muffling a sob, Justine slowly brushed each tooth twenty times and ran the soapy washcloth against her pale white-skinned face, taking extra time to rinse the suds off and pat her skin dry.
Her mother called from Justine’s bedroom, “Honey, hurry up.”
“Okay Mamma, I’m coming.” Justine took a deep breath, exhaled and entered the light-filled room, hurriedly jumped into her small twin bed, sliding her thin body under the blue and yellow pastel colored sheets.
“Did you go potty?” asked her mother as she pulled the sheets over Justine’s body and up to her chin.
“Yes Mamma.” The young girl surveyed the room and finding nothing alarming, she snuggled deeper into the soft covers, ready to fall off to sleep. Her mother placed a kiss on her forehead, rose and walked to the doorway, stopping to look back at her daughter, blew her another kiss, turned off the light and closed the bedroom door.
Justine felt a weight settle onto the foot of her bed. Don’t look, she told herself. It’s not real. It’s my ‘magination. She felt the weight slink upward until it was right next to her face. She could feel a cool breath blow against her left ear. An icy hand touched her face and stroked her hair, as shivers of fear ran throughout her entire body. She was not going to look; not this time, not ever again. No one believed her anyway.
She shut her eyes even tighter, buried her head into the pillow and realized it would be there…today…tomorrow…for eternity.
Author: Monica M Brinkman, 2013
Visit Monica’s web-site: Meaningful Writings @ http://monicabrinkmanbooks.webs.com/
Shivers run through this. Nothing more or less than horror waits.
A great story! Every child’s nightmare.
Appreciate you stopping by and glad it captured those childish nightmares.
Is this every child’s reality? We know they have monsters in their closets but on the plus side, they also have imaginary playmates. Maybe when she awakens each morning and realizes that she is still intact, she will tell her fears to get lost. Now – sixth sense is a different kind of scary – they are visual and audible – not just palpable. I love that her life is so normal and loving which contrasts with the fear buildup but hope that Part 2 will give some kind of climax!
Great piece Monica!
Thank you very much Linda. Actually wrote this from life experiences when I lived in an old house in Pennsylvania. Things did more than go ‘creak in the night’.
Nicely done! No graphic monster, but the chilling terror that almost all children fear.
So happy you stopped by R.L. Ah but perhaps that monster lurks beneath the surface. LOL
A masterful piece showing how normality and horror can inhabit a child’s world, to which loving parents seem to have no clue. When our children feel reluctant to go to bed, why do we forget we went through similar experiences at their age?
Marta, love that you asked this question and hope parents will realize, imaginary or not, those fears are real to each child.
Excellent story of a child’s fears of “things that go bump in the night”. I enjoyed this read very much.
Thank you Cynthia. Happy I captured the terror many children experience. So glad you enjoyed the read.
This story does make you wonder how many children feel like “no one believes me”. That is the real horror of the story, that children feel so all alone with their imaginations. Thank you for this story, Monica.
And Martha, many parents poo – poo away the fears of the child, as if they are non-existent. Yes, horror comes in many ways.
Great Story. It reminds me of my childhood when I had to fetch water during an evening. The pump was at the bottom of the hill, pushed right up against old growth forest. I was convinced there were creatures that always watched me as I pumped the water, wondering whether this would be the time they would take me and eat me. I couldn’t run with a full two gallon pail of water, but I sure could walk fast, and never once did I look back into the dark.
Love the fetching water story Clayton. I can see a great story in this tale of yours. Perhaps you’ll share it with us in the future.
Reading a flash by Monica Brinkman is always a delight!
Thank you for taking the time to stop by and comment Ken. Love the ‘shivers’ part.
Well, from the person I consider the ‘Master of Flash’ this is indeed a compliment. Thank you so much Sal Buttaci.
Monica, great story that really hits home. When I was sent to bed as a child I saw a black shadow line of darness surround my bed, terrifying me. It was surly the Devil. I had a little cross that illuminated when placed near a lamp and stared at it until I fell asleep–in the middle of the bed, sure to keep legs and arms tucked in.
Ah, don’t know about the Devil but in the house and town I grew up as a child, very strange occurrences took place. In fact, the house across the street from us was the topic of many a news article on poltergeists. I am happy the cross kept you safe and snug. And then we have the fear of the proverbial ‘monster under the bed’. Ah, to be a child.
now you have me wondering ………… what will it be????
Stay tuned! Ha. Ha. Many tales to tell. Thank you Jon.
Of course you realize you gave us just enough of the story to whet our appetite for more! Great write and so typical of childhood experiences. Your words captured the essence of the little girl’s fear, not only the actual encounter but the fear that no one believes it is there, it is real, it is not ‘magination. Looking forward to the ‘rest of the story’!
Sharla, thank you for stopping by and commenting. Your words are music to my ears and I will surely share more of this and many stories. Take care.
Monica, I think you have perfectly captured the average child’s night terror! Alas, my daughter was not raised in the average home. Instead, she grew up in a ghost-filled Victorian mansion on the Oregon coast. We ran a B&B out of it. We acknowledged the ghosts, since there was no escaping them–but she still had to go to bed in her own room each night. I think it helped her that mom, grandpa, aunts and an uncle, all had ghostly experiences in the Inn, as did many a guest. Every experience was friendly and quite non-threatening. But I still marvel at how my little 4 year old climbed into her bed each night, not just believing but knowing she was not alone in her room, and yet she turned out so… normal. She considered them her guardian angels, and perhaps they were. (Imagine that!) This story, written in such an easy, Americana style, really stoked some childhood nostalgia for me. Thanks!
Ann, Thank you for sharing your experience living in a haunted residence with us. I used to shy away from mentioning the spirits I grew up with for fear of retribution. Many people who have not had actual encounters put labels on those who speak up as they cannot understand that it is a reality for those who live with these souls. Appreciate your words.
Well done Monica. I felt the shivers run up my spine as I read the closing two paragraphs. Descriptive leaving ones imagination to carry them into the dark.
It is the non-graphic qualities that make this piece so supenseful, Monica. Despite being short it moves slowly into the fear of the child and love how it blurs the lines between imagination and reality that is so much a part of most children’s lives. Wonderful piece of writing!
Poor baby!
I wanted to shake mommy and tell her to just crawl into the bed with Justine for just little while until she fell asleep, and until this time in her life would surely pass away.
I like the subtle chills of this piece. Reminds me of when I was seven, and convinced there were vampires in my closet.
Really appreciate you sharing this blog article. Much obliged.
Thanks for sharing, this is a fantastic article post. Much thanks again. Keep writing.
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