The Evil Bed;
I was seven years old when it started, my fear of my bed.
It was my birthday, my present that year was a new bed. It was the best bed I had ever seen! It was exactly like my favorite cartoon car, Roary, even had the same number and cap!
I was so excited that I didn't open my other presents until my bed was all set up.
Though I didn't notice till later, my older brother was bright green with envy. He was jealous. His bed was dull & boring. No cool cartoon, no cap, just brown wood.
That evening, after dinner, when we were brushing our teeth my older brother leaned over and whispered to me 'Do you know what Roary eats? Dreams. All beds do.' and walked off, leaving me shaking.
I was so frightened, afraid to sleep, I tried to stall my parents by asking lots and lots of questions, where do babies come from?, how old is grandma?, when will I be that old?, and all different random questions.
Stalling has to end eventually though, mine did in ten minutes. Being seven, I sulked, it was a given. Stomping off too my room, I passed my brothers room, where I stopped to make faces into the dark. I was so busy making faces that I didn't notice mum behind me, by the time I did it was too late. I was in trouble.
After mum and dad tucked me in they slowly and quietly tiptoed out because I was dozing off into a deep slumber. The last sleep I had.
Today, I am an old man, always with big black bags under my eyes. My Roary bed DID eat my dreams, along with my sleep. I would lay there for hours, listening to the creaking of the house, the evil laughter of my bed, having the happiness sucked from my sleep, my life.
The warden I have now helps me, gives me medication. He says Roary will leave soon and I will be normal again. Soon.
