My Fearful Heart

I dreaded bedtime when I was a child
Oh how I fought with my tired eyes
Battled to show no sign of dreariness
That moment of weakness damning me

So I was sent to my large dark bedroom
The fear engulfing me with every step
There were no "tuck-ins" for me then
Good-nights were said only downstairs

It was an aged creaky Victorian house
But it wasn't the settling of old boards
that precipitated my full apprehension
The cold sweat of complete helpless fear

I could share my terror with no one
They wouldn't believe and I couldn't prove
I swore to face it down and beat it
The foolish bravado of a terrified child

Once in my bed and fully covered to my nose
The most carefull listening I ever mastered
The far-away muffled talking and television
Overpowered by the deafening silence

In those days I swear I could hear dust falling
I knew the sound of my own thoughts
Or cars that were not passing by outside
So in the cacophony of utter silence it shrieked

Breathing...steady...slightly wraspy...not mine
My own was anything but...short and frightened
My eyes squeezed shut so hard they hurt
Sweat and tears mingled down my shaking face

Then the sheets covering me, my armor ... pulled
At first slight tugs...mocking my cowardice
And they didn't pull from the door side of my bed
But rather from the side against the wall!

Regardless of how I fought to hold them in place
They always, inch by inch, were drawn away
When I was almost entirely exposed, it came time
I felt visibilty represented my vunerabilty

So with one last gasp I gathered a knot of sheets
and with shaky hand slowly pulled them up off the bed
I peered in the inky darkness beyond and under
I was first aware of a faint dull amber light

As my eyes adjusted to the dark and increasing color
my hand was froze in terror when I would see her
The color came from two eyes set back in dark sockets
Her head rested on the bed and a smile slowly formed

Her skin was dark, old, and heavily wrinkled leather
As her lips parted in a smile, broken and rotted teeth
were exposed...and the breathing was ever steady
Everything was dimmly lit by her two glowing eyes

I would stare at her while warmth engulfed my pajamas
She would extend a black and boiled tongue at me
Her whispy white knotted hair fell about her face
Then she would reach for me between the separated sheets

It was then when the terror reached it's pinnacle...
I would bound from the bed, putting distance from us
I could see her crawling towards me still
A moving lump under my bedcovers, the slight light

Hearing the footsteps, one of my parents would come up
Thankfully opening the door, spilling hall light within
My covers would drop limply back down on cue
which left me panting, scared, and aware of my wet bottoms

I was continually belittled and punished for my bedwetting
"Nightmares" the excuse for the continued occurring habit
And so this went on at least a few times a week for years
I never knew which night to expect so my guard always up

After some unceremoniously timed night it never happened again
I never found out what it was or what it wanted
Now as an adult amber colored lights are always removed from
Christmas strings...and my bed is always in the room's center

[For my friend TarTar who has never been comfortable with the dark or the things that creep around in it]