A Bedtime Story

Jeremiah’s Bed TIme Story
(Total reading time 3-4 minutes)

The room was almost dark. Thin slices of moonlight peaked through the blinds. In the street outside the air was still except for an occasional passing car.  Even in the silence Jeremiah could hear whispers of rhythm moving through the house. It talked to him. When things were really quite it told him secrets.

He laid in bed wrapped in his blanket afraid of the cold air around him. He stared straight above at the ceiling waiting. When a car drove by a beam of light would fly across the room. A shooting star in my own room tonight he thought. The street was empty tonight. He saw something flicker quickly. He heard a short Zzzt. The streetlight broke. The darkness grew. In the moments it took his pupils to adjust he became more afraid.

The house whispered to him, “Jeremiah you should sleep.”

He grew more tired. His mind began to settle like a carousel at the end of its ride. The horses went up and down. Slower and slower. Each rising and falling and yet frozen in time forever. Soon the ride would be over and the music would stop.

The house whispered again, “Sleep”

Jeremiah squeezed him self just a little tighter into the covers. He thought about trading baseball cards with his friend tomorrow and wondered if mom would come to visit.

A moment later  all consciousness was cut off. His eye lids fell like a guillotine severing his mind from consciousness. He breathed slower and slower. Some breaths rising out through his nose, others shrugging out through his mouth in a tiny cough. He was warm and motionless.

Then the walls of the house began to close in. The ceiling began to fall. The paint and plaster chipped. A large crack split through the walls. The pipes rattled bent and twisted around Jeremiah’s body while he rest still in the bed.

Shhhheeeewwwww. A car passed by in the street. The light from its headlights passed through the blinds and raced across the falling ceiling. Jeremiah’s eyes open suddenly and he saw the room collapsing around him . Now the house called for him.

“Jeremiah––I want to show you something.”

Two dirty hands broke through the middle of the ceiling and reached toward him. The hands were dirty, covered with dust. The fingernails were black. Rotten worn electrical wires covered their skin like clogged veins and arteries. The arms were wrapped in pink hairy insulation. Small spiders crawled from finger to finger as they came closer.

The house grabbed him.

Jeremiah’s body began to rise from the bed. He felt the hand pulling. He resisted as much as he could. A tug of war began. Jeremiah’s soul was trapped in the middle. As the house pulled hard Jeremiah could look down and see his body laying motionless on the bed.

“No!” He yelled. He tried to grip the bed but the sheets slipped away from him.”

Shhhhhhhheeeeewwwww.  Another car passed.

This time when the light darted across the ceiling Jeremiah wasn’t thinking of falling stars or meteor showers. He wished it was an angel.

The ghostly hands of the house had completely engulfed his soul. Now rising more than a foot above the bed Jeremiah looked down at his motionless body. His eyes were shut. His face was flush with warm tones. He reached down fighting to hold on.

“No, No!, Please” he screamed.

The house let out an empty laugh as if it were a pirate who just uncovered its long lost treasure.

Shhhhhheeeeewwwwww. “Jeremiah. Jeremiah.” a voice said..

Suddenly Jeremiah took a short breath and gasped. He shot up from the bed like the spring of a mouse trap closing on its prey. The door to his bedroom was open. A ray of light flooded into the room from the hallway. He looked around. He breathed deeply wondering if this was air. He felt for the bed frantically.

“Jeremiah, are you okay?” said a tall shadowed figure backlit by the hallway lights.

Thats all I have to say.

Peter Weis

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