"Are you ready for bed, Ali?" My Mom called up to me. I rolled my eyes and sighed. My mother was always on my case about getting to bed earlier. Seriously, I was a freshman in high school and a little too old for a bedtime.
"Yes Mom, I love you, goodnight." I walked into my room and closed my door. Mom would probably be watching TV and whatever crime show drama or sappy soap opera she was going to watch- I didn't want to hear it.
I crawled into bed and tried to arrange my mussed up covers to get comfortable. I loved the way my comforter made me feel closed in, and the blankets on top of me made me feel warm and secure. I loved sleeping in close spaces, that was the only reason I slept in a twin bed instead of a queen sized. As I burrowed under the covers, I moved my legs against my sheets. I could feel the friction warming up my feet and legs. There was no better feeling than sheets on my legs that I had just shaved less than an hour before. At that point, there was a small opening in covers above me so I could breathe easily. The rest of my body was cocooned in warmth and the soft fabric of my blankets. I had finally gotten comfortable, and my eyelids had begun to grow heavy while my breathing became more even.
I could feel that I was in that half asleep state where my brain was just clinging on to reality. That's when it happened, that jolt of pure terror. I heard a crash and the sound of shattered glass that made me sit up in bed and scream. Was there an intruder in the house? Was he going to rape me or hurt my family? Haunting images of blood and death filled my head in the single ten second period during which I screamed. That was it, the end. I could feel it in my bones.
My mother came racing up the stairs and barged into my room with a baseball bat.
"What? Are you okay? What happened?" She asked me. I could just vaguely make out her outline in the darkness of my bedroom.
"I don't know," I told her, my voice shaking. "I just heard a crash and-" I heard a click and light illuminated the room. My eyes were suddenly drawn to a glass mess on the carpet. It was my framed poster of the Narnia movie that came out a few years ago, with Prince Caspian on it. I always thought he was hot.
My mother chuckled. "Oh Ali, it was just the poster. Go back to bed, and in the morning make sure you don't step on the glass. Goodnight." As she told me goodnight, she turned off my lamp.
"Goodnight Mom," I murmured as I buried myself once again under the covers. I slept in peace for the rest of the night. The main thing I learned from that situation was this:
You have not truly felt pure terror unless you've had a poster fall in the middle of the night.
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. There were some teeny-weeny grammatical mistakes here and there but that really doesn't matter. So overall it was a great job that made me smile. Thank you very much. I look forward to reading a lot more of your works.
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