Nightmare

• Ezra Porteus, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2019

The floorboards creaked and the lights flickered as I climbed into bed. That night the mood had seemed a little off, or maybe it was just my imagination. I was only six at the time. I had shoulder height blonde hair and a small pale round face. Nan stumbled across my room, the wheels on her walking frame clanging as she moved. Nan had always been a strange person. She was just an average old woman to me back then; silver hair and a hunched over back, Or at least, that’s what I thought. Her eyes never seemed to focus on anything, and she would often mumble words to herself under her breath. It was like she had her own secret language. From the years I had lived with her, I was learning it, slowly. But that night she seemed to be actually focused, and different. I was worried. Her voice was hoarse but loving, she leaned over and whispered into my ear. “Your mother had always said you were an angel.” I could feel her breath hitting my face as she spoke. It was warm and slightly shaky, and seemingly unstable. She reached her trembling, wrinkled hand towards my shoulder, and extended her index finger, then swept her hand down my back. “And that the scar on your back was from where you once had wings.” The stutter in her voice had gone as she began to speak. My mother had never got the chance to tell me what the scar was really from. It stretched from the top of my shoulder, down to the center of my back. “You have a great future ahead of you.” She said gently, gazing deep into my cerulean blue eyes. She kissed me on the forehead, then grasped the handles of her walking frame and began to slowly stumble towards the exit of my bedroom. As she was leaving I heard her say something. Something along the lines of “You just need to learn how to spread your wings.. again.” Then she collapsed onto the solid wooden floor. “NAN!” I screamed. Her head slowly tilted towards me and her eyes gazed lifelessly into mine. She’s gone.
“Ezra, I appreciate that you are reading an actual book, but it’s nearly ten O’clock, so could you please go to sleep.” Mum is standing in the doorway. She looks exhausted, I wonder how long she’s been standing there...
“But mum, I want to find out what happened to Lucia..”
“You can read tomorrow, you need to sleep now. Goodnight sweetie.” Mum said quietly as she left the room. I gently shut the book. The whole house is dead silent as if it had been suddenly abandoned. The sound of a distant clock ticking is the only thing disturbing the silence. As I begin to walk across my room to return my book to the bookshelf, I notice that the floorboards outside my door are creaking. Someone is here.