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A friend of mine challenged me to a Halloween write off! It's short, filled to the brim with typos, and partly inspired by a movie that made me sleep with my head under the blankets for five years! Enjoy ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ The boy slept peacefully under the covers. He didn’t know it, but his mother just tucked him in for the last time. His once beloved race car bed now sat in storage for the next member of his family to need it. The childish cartoon bedsheets were replaced with more mature designs of video game characters instead. My boy was growing up. He was leaving me behind. I already missed him so very, very much. Yet I was stuffed under the bed like a toy soon to be forgotten. I’m not ready for that. I just want him to hold me again. I want to be able to hold him again. I reach out, my hand crawling up the side of the mattress. He tosses a bit, as I move to his arm. He begins to turn as I reach his chest. I can feel his heartbeat pulse as I curl up on his stomach. My hand is not enough though. I need more. I need all of him! I can’t survive off pieces of forgotten dreams! I close my fist, my fingers passing through his belly. I’ve waited long enough. It’s time I have my boy back! I feel him wake as I take what I need to be real again. Then I pull. I yank. I drag him through the BED UNTIL HE ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chris woke up screaming, throwing himself out of bed. A loud thud followed by a soft ‘ow’ echoed in the empty apartment. This was the fourth nightmare this week, and the third in a row. All he could ever remember was a deep, aching need and the feeling of being pulled out of himself. Of course, the emerging headache from falling out of bed wasn’t even the worst part. He sat up and winced at the *squelch* from his underwear. He lifted the front of his sweatpants to confirm what he already knew. The blue and white pattern that pretended it wasn’t a glorified diaper was soaked through. Chris hit the back of his head against his mattress. At least the Goodnite held over night. It was surprising enough to find that they were made in his size. It was odd though. He’d walked through the store in a trance yesterday until he stood in front of the ‘protective undergarments’. It was like he was watching someone else put them into his basket. And when he put them on last night. His body moved on muscle memory more than actual thought. Toss daytime underwear into the hamper. Sprinkle powder into the Goodnite. Pull it on, and check to make sure there’s no gap in the legs. Movements well practiced, and long ingrained to the point it was done on auto pilot. Yet, he’d never worn them in his life. He shook his head. The nightmares were just getting to him. Lots of college people still wet the bed, who cared right? Least the mattress wasn’t ruined. Chris brushed the hair out of his eyes, and made his way to the bathroom of his quiet, lonely apartment. A shower was the first thing he always did in the morning, and the need for one had only doubled since he became a bedwetter. Chris never noticed the outline of a hand on his stomach that the water bounced off his. He never noticed as the idea that he was guaranteed to wake up wet took hold. Four nights ago he woke up dry for the last time, and without realizing it, this morning he’d never woken up dry in his life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My boy had just turned six. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the last time he would take me to play in the park with him. Oh we had so much fun! We scaled the great mountain that was the jungle gym! We braved the giant slide! We befriended a majestic butterfly that landed on his face! It was a wonderful time! Yet, as we sat in the sand pit, I knew the time was running short. My sweet, innocent boy was squirming back and forth on the verge of a realization. I was busy making sure the palisades of the great sand palace he made were staffed with loyal soldiers, so even I didn’t notice at first. But I felt it when he realized it. “I gotta potty,” he told me as he started to stand. I knew what would happen next. He’d run off. On his way back he’d run into an interloper. Someone to run around and play tag with. Another child a year older that would slowly take over my place in MY boy’s life. “But our castle?” I pleaded “It’s okay, I’ll play more with you when I come back.” My boy told me. That wasn’t true though. He’d never come back to me, not really. No… No, this wasn’t how this was going to play out this time. I wasn’t going to be stuffed under the bed. I reached out and grabbed him. My hand turned to talons as my thumb and pinky wrapped around his waist. My middle talon pet his hair. A part of him wanted to be afraid of me. Why? Can’t he see I’m his friend? I would never hurt my boy. “We don’t need to stop playing,” I told him as the fear was suppressed within him. I pulled him back next to me, through the sandcastle we built. That’s okay. We can build another one. I forced him to sit down. The light in his eyes had gone dull, but that’s okay too. I can shine bright enough for the both of us. “What about the potty?” He asked. I would scowl if I could. Why does he want to leave me so badly? “You don’t need it.” I told him as I began guiding his hands back to the bucket. It was going to be alot of work to rebuild what was once here. “But-” He tried to argue. Keyword is tried. “YOU DON’T NEED IT” I shouted back. The sand beneath him began to darken as he lost control. Good. He needed to understand. He needed, “Me. All you need is ME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I’M ALL YOU’LL EVER-” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thunk, “Ow” Another morning, another nightmare, another headache from falling out of bed. Chris spent a moment just lying on the floor, trying to catch his breath. There was something different about the last dream. Something had changed, and he couldn’t tell what. All he really wanted for the nightmares to end. As he began to stand up for his morning routine, he noticed something odd. There, under his bed, was a small stuffed bunny. It was grey and worn, the arms had clearly been restitched, and it had a button replacing one of it’s eyes. “Hops?” He muttered to himself in confusion. Why was a toy from his childhood here? He was just reaching to grab it, when the door opened behind him. He jerked back up to see who it was, only to hit himself on one of the drawers on his nightstand. “Oh sweety, did you roll out of bed again?” A concerned voice asked. An impossible voice. Chris looked up as his mother ran over to check his head for bumps and bruising. “Mom? What are you doing?” He asked. After all, she lived several hours away… Didn’t she? His head began to hurt and he placed a hand against it to help fend off the ache. “What does it look like I’m doing, I’m making sure you’re okay?” She said. Chris didn’t fight her fussing. It was still too early for him to really know what was real or not. He closed his eyes as she inspected him, and only opened them again when he felt her pull down the front of his pajamas. “Aw, you’re soaked too. Poor baby.” He blushed as she helped him up to his feet. Despite being nearly half a foot taller than her, he couldn’t help but feel like a child under her gaze. “Why don’t you go take a shower while I make you some breakfast, sweety.” It was all Chris could do to nod. Once she was satisfied her little man was alright, his mother left him alone in the room. For his part, Chris stumbled his way over to clean off his nightly accident. Once more the echoes of talons left by the water went unnoticed. By the end of his shower, he’d convinced himself it was perfectly normal for his mother to check if he’d wet the bed like that, despite both knowing with complete certainty the answer would be yes. He didn’t even bat an eye at the clothing she left out for him, nor the fact that his boxers had been replaced by yet another goodnite. After all, he’d always needed them, just in case. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I can feel it. How had I not noticed it before. My boy is so much closer to me than he’d been in decades. Soon… soon I’ll never let him go again. The dream, the memory builds to my requirements. He’s four years old. Today would be his last day wearing pull-ups. The chart above his bed had shown sunny skies for the past two weeks. My boy had been excited to go to pre-school, as his parents had been hyping it up for him. He just needed to be potty trained first I know better though. I know how hard of a time he’ll have making friends. I know how lonely he’ll be. The life of solitude this eventually leads him towards. For now we play with blocks. Stacking them high just to knock them down. His smile and laughter is infectious as I encourage him to build bigger and bigger. Distantly, a timer to remind him to go potty rings in the distance. At least, It’s supposed to. This time the sound doesn’t reach him. The reminder never comes. We just continue building and tearing down. It’s sort of funny. The first time around I’d been so helpful in getting him to the potty. I’d been his rock; giving him confidence to talk to other children. Now here I am tearing him down. It’s not until he starts bouncing from leg to leg that his eyes go wide and he realizes what that means. My boy sprints to the door. It would be cute if it wasn’t futile. I’d already locked it. My boy looks back at me and does something I didn’t expect. “W…what are you doing to me?” His voice quaked in fear. “Just let me go, please” I tilt my head in confusion. At least, I think I do. The world turns upside down in my view. Why is my boy so pale though? “What do you mean? Just go in your pull ups, it’s okay.” I tell him. Strangely, it’s not the boy I see in front of me anymore, but the man who would have forgotten me. That’s okay. Soon there won’t be a difference. “S-s-stop this. Please?” He again pleads. Stop what? For once I find I don’t understand. He’s crying now, and I’ll admit the sight breaks my heart. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” I open a drawer and grab a pacifier he’d long been weaned off of. I shake the dust off it and hold it in front of his mouth. He starts to say something, but it doesn’t matter to me. His attempts to speak cut off by the pacifier entering his mouth, my talons wrapping around his head. I’m not sure how, but we both knew that it wouldn’t come out without my permission. It was working though. Already his frantic heart and held back sobs began to fade as the paci soothed him. “Good baby.” I praised him. After all, I know best for my boy. “What is it you wanted me to stop? I just wanted you to be the happy little boy I remember.” I ran my talon down his face, careful not to scratch. “Pleathe juth le me go” he muttered out from behind the shield of his soother. “Oh, you need to go? I can help.” I can make sure that’s something he never has to worry about again. I walk over to his racecar bed. Hmm, with a single pull, the small side are lifted to a full crib. That should help keep him in bed at least. Now for the real reason I walked over here. “Don’t worry my boy, soon everything will be all right.” I began peeling off the suns, one at a time. Once they were gone, I replaced them at random. A rain cloud here, and thunder bolt there. Soon there wasn’t a dry day to be seen, until the only blank spot left was today. “It will be all over soon,” I told him, as I placed the final thundercloud on today’s date. The result was instant as my boy’s knees buckled under him. Now there was nothing that could take my boy from me ever again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chris yawned, his pacifier falling onto his pillow as he did. The rising was peeking through the black out curtains on the other side of his crib rails. He rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out what woke him. It took him a moment to figure it out, before he noticed his favorite stuffed animal had fallen out during the night. He reached out the bars as far as he could, grunting and straining to stretch out until he had his worn out old bunny in his hand. He sat back down in his crib and hugged the little doll; oblivious to the weight he’d added to the back of his diapers. It was still early after all. He fell back onto his pillow, put his pacifier back into his mouth, and went back to sleep. His mommy would change him eventually, and he had a whole day of playing ahead of him.