Terror At Night

You jolt awake in the dead of night, breath shallow, heart hammering. Something is there, lurking in the dark. You don’t need to see it to know it's there. The weight of its gaze presses against you; prickling every nerve and freezing you in place.

Don’t move! Don’t breathe!

If you stay still, maybe it won’t find you.

But stillness is easy when terror has locked your body in chains. Paralyzed.

Then comes the scrape. It is long and deliberate: The sound of claws dragging across the wooden bedframe. It is inching closer, hunting for your legs beneath the sheets. A guttural noise, half scream and half growl, tears from the shadows. It vibrates through your bones. Panic drives your hand to the light switch. Your fingers fumble, desperate. Finally the room explodes in a weak wash of dim light.

And there it is. Not the monster you braced for. Not tonight.

Just your child, standing silently by the bed. Staring at you expectantly.

Relief stumbles out of you in one long, ragged breath. But as your body loosens, one thought claws its way back in to your mind:

You were lucky this time.

Tonight, it wasn’t a monster.

By E. M. Page