"Daddy. I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness--it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of the room.
"Why not sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing mommy's skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
 Treaking Fypo · Mon Jul 26, 2010 @ 12:46am · 0 Comments |
