David Anderson's Blog - Posts Tagged "halloween"
Bed Covers
Ben pulled the chain then lowered the toilet seat quietly. He hated having to come to the bathroom in the middle of the night, navigating his way through the pitch darkness for fear of waking his parents by turning on the hallway light. He wouldn’t admit to being scared of the dark, but he certainly wasn’t fond of it. Night-time shadows gave the interior of his house, so welcome and comforting in the light of day, a far more menacing veneer. He tiptoed his way to the bathroom door fighting an almost overwhelming urge to look back over his shoulder. If there was something sinister lingering in his shower cubicle he didn’t want to see it. He shivered at the thought of what horrors could be watching him from their unseen positions.
Ben peered out of the bathroom door, down the long hallway at the end of which stood his bedroom. He longed for the safety of his bed. Everyone knew that once you got to your room and fully covered yourself with your bed sheets that you were safe from any harm. Nothing could get you when you were holed up beneath those sheets, absolutely nothing at all. It was a simple fact, one his own mother had reiterated to him on numerous occasions. Secure as gold bars in a bank vault, she had told him, once your entire body was hidden away beneath them.
Ben steeled himself and took a first apprehensive step into the dark hallway. As he did so, a low, shapeless figure scampered from the doorway of the spare bedroom and raced towards him at speed. Ben’s eyes widened and his mouth slackened; if he hadn’t already emptied his bladder, he might have done so into the leg of pyjama bottoms. He took an involuntary step backwards and a burst of adrenaline exploded through his body. Just as he was about to cry out, he managed to stop himself. It was only Elmer, he realised, his dog. With his sensitive hearing he had probably been spooked by the refilling of the toilet cistern and made a terrified dash for it. The stupid beast had almost given him a heart attack. Ben had never known a more anxious creature – well, with the possible exception of himself.
Shaken and not wanting to wait for another unnecessary scare to fall into his lap, Ben bounded headlong down the hallway and into his bedroom. He threw the creaking door his father had been threatening to oil for months closed without so much as a backwards glance. With the grace of an Olympic athlete, he threw himself onto his bed and hurriedly pulled his bed covers over him. His protective barrier in place, Ben heaved a great sigh of relief. He risked a quick hand beyond the boundaries of his cocoon, yanked down his pillow, and began to make himself comfortable.
Unexpectedly, there came a scrabbling sound from beneath Ben’s bed. Still in flight or fight mode, he scarcely heard the noises over the wild galloping of his heartbeat and the ragged gasps of his terrified breathing. Lying as still as possible, holding his breath as best he could, and trying to still the errant rhythm within his chest, Ben listened for a repeat. For a long time there was nothing but, just as he was begin to believe he had imagined the sounds, they came again, accompanied by a nudge at the foot of his bed.
As his heart rate picked up its erratic pace again, Ben thought hard. It had to be Elmer beneath his bed, didn’t it? The skittish creature had snuck into his master’s room looking for comfort; what other explanation could there be? But what if he was wrong? Should he lift the bed sheets and make sure?
After a moment, Ben made up his mind. The presence beneath his mattress simply had to be his silly dog. Chastising himself for scaring so easily, Ben decided he would raise the sheets and let Elmer clamber into bed with him. Besides, wouldn’t he feel more secure sharing his bed with his faithful companion? Didn’t his teachers always say walking home from school with lots of friends was best as safety came in numbers? Wouldn’t that same rule apply to this very situation? Yes, he would raise the sheets. Elmer’s presence would be a welcome one.
Before he had time to change his mind, Ben shuffled towards the foot of his bed trying his damnedest to stay covered by his sheets at all times. He reached out to raise the bottom of his bed covers when a sudden thought stayed his hand. If Elmer really had come into his room, why hadn’t he heard the telltale creak of his door’s unlubricated hinges?
Before Ben could formulate another thought, something grabbed the bed covers from the outside and ripped them away. With a gasp, Ben was exposed to the naked darkness and chill of his bedchamber. It was then that the ancient, lined face with its vacant, cataract clouded eyes revealed itself by the room's scant light. It was then, before Ben could utter a scream, that the gnarled, ice cold hand grasped his ankle and began to pull him under the bed. It was then that Ben knew the assurances of safety afforded to him by his bed covers had been nothing but lies.
Ben peered out of the bathroom door, down the long hallway at the end of which stood his bedroom. He longed for the safety of his bed. Everyone knew that once you got to your room and fully covered yourself with your bed sheets that you were safe from any harm. Nothing could get you when you were holed up beneath those sheets, absolutely nothing at all. It was a simple fact, one his own mother had reiterated to him on numerous occasions. Secure as gold bars in a bank vault, she had told him, once your entire body was hidden away beneath them.
Ben steeled himself and took a first apprehensive step into the dark hallway. As he did so, a low, shapeless figure scampered from the doorway of the spare bedroom and raced towards him at speed. Ben’s eyes widened and his mouth slackened; if he hadn’t already emptied his bladder, he might have done so into the leg of pyjama bottoms. He took an involuntary step backwards and a burst of adrenaline exploded through his body. Just as he was about to cry out, he managed to stop himself. It was only Elmer, he realised, his dog. With his sensitive hearing he had probably been spooked by the refilling of the toilet cistern and made a terrified dash for it. The stupid beast had almost given him a heart attack. Ben had never known a more anxious creature – well, with the possible exception of himself.
Shaken and not wanting to wait for another unnecessary scare to fall into his lap, Ben bounded headlong down the hallway and into his bedroom. He threw the creaking door his father had been threatening to oil for months closed without so much as a backwards glance. With the grace of an Olympic athlete, he threw himself onto his bed and hurriedly pulled his bed covers over him. His protective barrier in place, Ben heaved a great sigh of relief. He risked a quick hand beyond the boundaries of his cocoon, yanked down his pillow, and began to make himself comfortable.
Unexpectedly, there came a scrabbling sound from beneath Ben’s bed. Still in flight or fight mode, he scarcely heard the noises over the wild galloping of his heartbeat and the ragged gasps of his terrified breathing. Lying as still as possible, holding his breath as best he could, and trying to still the errant rhythm within his chest, Ben listened for a repeat. For a long time there was nothing but, just as he was begin to believe he had imagined the sounds, they came again, accompanied by a nudge at the foot of his bed.
As his heart rate picked up its erratic pace again, Ben thought hard. It had to be Elmer beneath his bed, didn’t it? The skittish creature had snuck into his master’s room looking for comfort; what other explanation could there be? But what if he was wrong? Should he lift the bed sheets and make sure?
After a moment, Ben made up his mind. The presence beneath his mattress simply had to be his silly dog. Chastising himself for scaring so easily, Ben decided he would raise the sheets and let Elmer clamber into bed with him. Besides, wouldn’t he feel more secure sharing his bed with his faithful companion? Didn’t his teachers always say walking home from school with lots of friends was best as safety came in numbers? Wouldn’t that same rule apply to this very situation? Yes, he would raise the sheets. Elmer’s presence would be a welcome one.
Before he had time to change his mind, Ben shuffled towards the foot of his bed trying his damnedest to stay covered by his sheets at all times. He reached out to raise the bottom of his bed covers when a sudden thought stayed his hand. If Elmer really had come into his room, why hadn’t he heard the telltale creak of his door’s unlubricated hinges?
Before Ben could formulate another thought, something grabbed the bed covers from the outside and ripped them away. With a gasp, Ben was exposed to the naked darkness and chill of his bedchamber. It was then that the ancient, lined face with its vacant, cataract clouded eyes revealed itself by the room's scant light. It was then, before Ben could utter a scream, that the gnarled, ice cold hand grasped his ankle and began to pull him under the bed. It was then that Ben knew the assurances of safety afforded to him by his bed covers had been nothing but lies.
