AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can feel them, their stare, as I lay on my side in bed, my consciousness slowly awakening.
And given my recent luck, it’s probably a burglar about to bash my head in. Hopefully this time, instead of a dildo, it’s something more substantial that will do the job properly and put me out of my misery.
I open the eye not obscured by the pillow.
Not a burglar, but something equally, no, even more frightening.
Mike Hunt. Hovering next to the bed.
‘Mr Thomas?’
Worried my mind has finally broken under the collective stress of the past few days, causing me to see floating and talking cats, I open both eyes and raise my head from the pillow. The demon cat is still there, but now I see it’s being held aloft by Alice’s niece.
‘Thomas.’ My voice rumbles like tumbling river rocks.
Mary steps back and Mike hisses.
Unused to being awoken in the middle of the night, or have anyone to speak to if I was, I fight the urge to hiss back.
Instead, I clear my throat and try again. ‘It’s Thomas. You can call me Thomas.’
Mary nods, still wary. ‘Where’s Aunt Alice?’ She rises on her tiptoes as if trying to look over me, searching for Alice on the other side of the bed.
I blank, unable to think of an excuse for Alice not being here. A glance at my phone charging on my nightstand explains why I’m so groggy. Two in the morning. The last time I looked at the clock, right after I last glanced at the closet door, it had been midnight.
‘Is she in the bathroom?’ Mary looks behind her at the door to the master en suite.
‘Yes.’ I grasp at the excuse. ‘That’s where she is.’
‘Oh.’ Hugging the grotesque beige gargoyle closer to her chest, she pivots, toward the bathroom door.
Worried she might go look for her aunt, I clear my throat again. ‘Did you need something?’
‘Um…’ She ducks her head behind the cat’s. ‘I had a bad dream.’
Probably due to my exhaustion, a memory from my childhood that I thought I’d forgotten surfaces. I think I was seven at the time.
I’d watched E.T. on the television before going to bed. Hours later, I jolted awake, covered in sweat from a bad dream about flashing lights and one long, crooked finger getting closer and closer. I’d laid in my bed, my heart racing, while each of the shadows cast by the moonlight coming through my windows morphed into evil apparitions thanks to a distraught, overactive imagination.
I’d been so scared that, for once, I hadn’t thought through what my father’s reaction would be, I’d simply run down the hallway to my parents’ room.
They were still sharing one at the time.
On instinct, I’d approached my mother’s side of the bed. ‘I had a bad dream.’
Without a word she’d thrown back the covers, letting me crawl under them and cuddle close.
I’d felt soothed and safe, my heart returning to its normal pace.
Until my father woke.
Don’t be such a baby. Boys don’t cry. Suck it up, be a man.
I could tell Mother was working up the courage to argue but I hadn’t wanted to be the cause of another fight between them, so I feigned bravery and left.
Mary takes a step toward the bathroom, breaking me from my memories.
‘Here.’ I pull back the covers, thankful I grabbed my pajama pants and T-shirt before closing Alice behind the closet door. ‘Would you like to sleep here?’
