It's been exactly seventeen days since he last told her a bed time story, ten since they last talked.
She laid there with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling till two am. It wasn't a surprise he didn't call, so she closed her eyes.
She steadily got out of bed, wiping her eyes before walking down the hallway to the last door. She opened it and saw her dad in his shirt and pajama pants sleeping soundly.
She shook him lightly. "I can't sleep." She mumbled.
"What's wrong?" He frowned.
"Bad dream. Will you tell me a bed time story?" She asked, sitting on the floor, looking up at him.
He handed her a pillow and a blanket, since her mom was taking up the rest of the bed and closed his eyes, sleepily telling her a story of a lady bug trying to eat a pea.
It sucked and didn't work as she still had a bad dream.
YOU ARE READING
2am Bedtime Stories
Short StoryHe called me at two am, and told me a bedtime story. [This short story is based off a poem I wrote in ninth grade. It will be on the last chapter.] **Please don't skip ahead to it. Also, pay attention to the dates** Completed
