Harry

Harry's bedroom was transformed at night. During the day it was just a room with Lego models, action figures, and soft toys. At night though it was something else. The low light turned it all into shadows. And the shadows made the mundane spooky.

On the wall by the door some combination of something looked like a giant bird skulking across the room. Harry started at it. He tried to remember what was over there. What could have caused a shape like that? He reached for the light pull and tugged. Nothing happened. He tried again. In that moment he wanted to yell for dad. It was always his first reaction to call for help. He was ten now though and needed to start to deal with stuff himself. He scrambled out of the bed and crossed to the window to look out over the city.

He heard the noises of the main road in the distance. He smelt the remnants of charred meat from the BBQ on the balcony from earlier. He saw the tower block across the way through the gap in the curtains. It was dark. Except for the emergency lighting in the stairwell it was dark. He tasted the remnants of his mint toothpaste and felt the hairs on his arms standing on end.

Harry came round the bed. He carefully picked his way out of the room. During the day it was just an obstacle course at night it was much worse. He yelped as he trod on something knobbly on the floor. He reached down and picked it up. It had two legs and arms – definitely an action figure. For some reason he wanted to know which one it was. Perhaps it was just curiosity – or perhaps it was the challenge.

After a moment he found the fabric canopy. It was a parachute – it was great fun to drop the little man in the stairwell and watch as it drifted to the ground. He stopped by the door. Even his crescent-shaped night light wasn't glowing any more. He reached for the door handle.

The door to his bedroom had always been noisy. The only way to open it without making a noise was with extreme care – which wasn't exactly something that Harry was the best at. He put his hand on the knob and turned it as slowly and as carefully as he could. The door opened a bit and he didn't shut it lest it make a noise.

Harry padded past his dad's bedroom and into the living room. It was eerie. The light had gone out on the VCR and the clock on the coffee table was also dark. The only sound was the ticking of the other clock in the kitchen just off the lounge.

Suddenly there was a flash outside – Harry's head jerked in the direction of the window. There was a rumble too. And suddenly another flash. This time he had to cover his eyes. And he seemed to hear a voice. 'Harry, are you with us?'

Harry was on the floor. He wanted to not look out of the window. He didn't want his eyes to hurt. He seemed to hear the voice again. The carpet was suddenly damp and so was his side. He put his hand there and there was something sticky on it. It was too dark. There was another flash. The voice spoke again.

'Where?' was all Harry could say.

He saw a face highlighted in the lightning. The man wore a helmet. 'Afghanistan.'

Another flash and he was on the carpet again but could somehow still feel the mud and the blood.

'Corporal,' the voice said. 'Stay with me.'

When his eyes were closed he saw the living room. When open he saw the black sky and the man in the helmet.

He stumbled to his feet. He walked to the window. He was soaking wet, standing in the living room and could feel it despite the roof and the glass of the window.

The lightning flashed again and he was now on his back on a stretcher. The voice from before was back. 'It is going to be okay, Corporal.'

'Sergeant...' Harry said.