The Dream Trotters

Chapter 20

There once was a little girl who lived in a not so little house, on a street with five different churches.  The house was old, built in the age of lumber, the Titanic, and President Taft.  

There was a single stained glass window in the house, which filled the little girl with curious amount of excitement when she saw it.  The girl loved to organize.  

Even though she was only five years old, she would rather categorize objects than play.  She lived in a huge white room, with makeshift curtains, which were fabricated of sheer blue and pink fabric.  

It was, as any little child’s room, the home of a princess.  Even the tall white cupboards seemed fancy, hiding small compartments big enough for her, and her alone.   

In the day, it was a royal palace; with dress up strewn across the pink shag carpet.  But at night, the palace became a dungeon, and her parents, became her captors.  

Night after night, shadows would sneak across the peculiar carpet, sneaking behind Lila every time she closed her eyes.  Yet when she turned to see them, all she saw was her willowy curtains, ruffled by the fan.

You see, this girl was no exception to the fear that most children fear.  She too, had been indoctrinated to believe in ghosts, demons, and night terrors.  They weren’t real, she had been told, but they seemed to still creep through the midnight hours, no matter how many times she denied their existence.  

On this particular night, Lila lay in her bed, pink comforter neatly wrapped up to her neck, hiding a Pooh Bear nightgown.  The ceiling, which lay directly above, her seemed to squeak and squeal, sparking frightful ideas in Lila’s imaginative mind.  She clutched the blankets harder with her white, thin fingers then blinked her eyes close quickly.  After seconds, they shot back open.  Yet she saw nothing.  

Soon, exhaustion overcame common sense and the little girl finally fell asleep.  Who can describe the dreams of children?  Dreams are the smoothies of life.  Throw in some fear, your favorite hobbies, a few characters, and viola!  The recipe changes every time, for every person.  

As far as I know, this has been my experience.  But if you think about it, dreams are personal and extremely relative; you will never get to know what the person sitting next to you dreamt about last night!

Lila dreamt of running down sidewalks, flour-covered Kitchen Aids, and homemade apple fritters.  Yet soon, she found herself in her own room, dreaming of dreaming.   Her little neck turned her fragile face around the room, studying each corner.  A little gasp escaped from her mouth, as her lips turned downward, frightened into a frown.

In the corner, was a boy, much older than herself.  The shadows curled around his face, making his teenage face appear malicious.  She screamed, and her little blond pigtails quivered with her fright.

 Her eyes shot open, and she found herself once again in her own room, though without the strange boy.  Because of the fact that the dream had taken place in the same environment, little Mandy couldn’t help but think that she was still having a nightmare.  

"Papa!  Papa!  Help me Papa!"  She yelled through the torrents of tears, which began to leak onto her face.  Even though she was only dreaming, the screams translated through the subconscious, and soon her father came rushing into her room.  He burst through the door, and the boy in the corner, who was in fact Finn, was incredibly startled.

"Honey!  What is it?"  Said a short little man, whom you could tell had just been awoken, for he was wearing nothing more than his underwear.  He had a bit of a stout face, which was enhanced by the fact that he had hardly any hair.  Yet he had caring eyes, and a thick defining beard around his mouth and chin.

"Daddy!  There's was a monster in my room!" She shrieked with fright, using one of her small fingers to point at the corner where Finn had stood.  The father, realizing that the girl wasn’t in any immediate danger, walked sleepily over to her bed.  

“But Daddy!”  she tried to interject, yet he placed a finger on his lips, silencing her kindly only the way that a father can.

"I don't see a monster darling.  You were just having a nightmare.  Now go back to sleep dear." He whispered to her in a haggard and tired voice, and went to tuck her in.  Obviously, he was accustomed to this routine.

Once she had been sufficiently hugged and calmed, the father turned off the light and exited the room, only leaving behind a kiss on his daughter’s cheek.  The little girl turned to face the boy once the door had been closed; yet he was gone.  As hard as she tried, she could not find him, and she never would.

Finn had not been able to bear the wide eyes of the child.  He didn’t want to be the subject of her nightmares, whatever the reason why he was in this room.  He grabbed the silver key around his neck, and turned around, inserting it into the keyhole of the closet.  

While the father had tucked in the little girl, he had left.  By the time the girl was once again asleep, Finn was far, far away, and Lila Hicks was left once again to her childish, though sometimes terrifying, dreams.