Nightmares
"No, er, ahh...." A eight year old boy tossed and turned in his sleep. Sweat trickled down his brow, slipping onto his eyelid. His hands waved violently at the sheets beneath him until he ripped them off.
"No!" he screamed, shooting upward in his bed. "DAD!"
Footsteps could be heard scrambling down the hallway to the bedroom. The door creaked open. Agitated fingers fingers fumbled for the lightswitch, succeeding to reveal a light blue painted room with various toy ships and the works of something her son was building in the corner.
"James! Is everything alright?! I could hear you all the way down the hall!" she flopped down at the foot of his bed, tired from a day of waiting on people at their Inn.
Being stubborn as he was, Jim slid up against the headpost, crossed his eyes, and wrinkled his nose. His mother just shook her head slowly.
"I'm fine! There's nothing wrong! Your hearing things!" he insisted.
The women sighed, slightly aggravated. Her son had never been this uptight with her. "Please," she begged, " You know you can talk with me."
Jim was silent as he lowered his eyes and sighed. Something was troubling him. He was upset, but he debated internally wether or not to bring it forward.
"Mom?" he asked meekly as she placed her chilly fingers upon his forehead. "Did...did Dad leave because of me?"
"What?!" his mother gasped taken aback.
Three weeks past, the boy had waken up at dawn to witness his father walking down the little path infront of the house. He was a sailor, so this was something the boy was used to, but this time was different. Over the man's back was slung a tattered bag unlike the supply bag.
His eyes were front forward focused on the ship in the port infront of the family Inn. He didn't look, didn't even blink, as his scrawny son flung open the hard wood door screaming out at him. He didn't stop as the scuffling of little feet and newly scunned knees hitting stones echoed through the air. He just kept walking away, away to that ship.
"I mean..." the boy blinked away his memories with a tear, " He never even hugged me....he would barely look at me.....What did I do to make him hate me? Did he ever even love me? Did he love you?" Questions popped left and right at the astounded women.
His mother's eyes glistened over with tears. She fell forward hugging Jim tightly, until her spicy scent surrounded him. When she let go, her mouth was set sternly.
" You listen to me. You did NOTHING wrong." She patted his hair lightly, pulling him into her lap. " You see, your father was a man who couldn't exactly....show what he felt. He couldn't handle responsibility."
The little boy nodded slowly, though he didn't really understand. Somehow he knew, though, that it meant he didn't do anything to make his mother cry. He also knew that it meant the only father he knew wasn't ever coming back.
His mother stood up, forced him to lay down, and tucked him back deeply into his blankets. She beamed down at her son. Sighing, she went back to the doorway.
"Now try to get back to sleep dear." She flicked off the light. " Oh, and Jimmy?"
"Yeah mom?" he yawned.
"No matter where your father is, I will always be here. Don't be afraid of me....Maybe I can make those monsters go away." she smiled and walked back to her room.
Jim grinned turning over to fall back into slumber. He felt safe and protected. As his mother said, the monsters that made him tumble in his sleep did disappear.
"No, er, ahh...." A eight year old boy tossed and turned in his sleep. Sweat trickled down his brow, slipping onto his eyelid. His hands waved violently at the sheets beneath him until he ripped them off.
"No!" he screamed, shooting upward in his bed. "DAD!"
Footsteps could be heard scrambling down the hallway to the bedroom. The door creaked open. Agitated fingers fingers fumbled for the lightswitch, succeeding to reveal a light blue painted room with various toy ships and the works of something her son was building in the corner.
"James! Is everything alright?! I could hear you all the way down the hall!" she flopped down at the foot of his bed, tired from a day of waiting on people at their Inn.
Being stubborn as he was, Jim slid up against the headpost, crossed his eyes, and wrinkled his nose. His mother just shook her head slowly.
"I'm fine! There's nothing wrong! Your hearing things!" he insisted.
The women sighed, slightly aggravated. Her son had never been this uptight with her. "Please," she begged, " You know you can talk with me."
Jim was silent as he lowered his eyes and sighed. Something was troubling him. He was upset, but he debated internally wether or not to bring it forward.
"Mom?" he asked meekly as she placed her chilly fingers upon his forehead. "Did...did Dad leave because of me?"
"What?!" his mother gasped taken aback.
Three weeks past, the boy had waken up at dawn to witness his father walking down the little path infront of the house. He was a sailor, so this was something the boy was used to, but this time was different. Over the man's back was slung a tattered bag unlike the supply bag.
His eyes were front forward focused on the ship in the port infront of the family Inn. He didn't look, didn't even blink, as his scrawny son flung open the hard wood door screaming out at him. He didn't stop as the scuffling of little feet and newly scunned knees hitting stones echoed through the air. He just kept walking away, away to that ship.
"I mean..." the boy blinked away his memories with a tear, " He never even hugged me....he would barely look at me.....What did I do to make him hate me? Did he ever even love me? Did he love you?" Questions popped left and right at the astounded women.
His mother's eyes glistened over with tears. She fell forward hugging Jim tightly, until her spicy scent surrounded him. When she let go, her mouth was set sternly.
" You listen to me. You did NOTHING wrong." She patted his hair lightly, pulling him into her lap. " You see, your father was a man who couldn't exactly....show what he felt. He couldn't handle responsibility."
The little boy nodded slowly, though he didn't really understand. Somehow he knew, though, that it meant he didn't do anything to make his mother cry. He also knew that it meant the only father he knew wasn't ever coming back.
His mother stood up, forced him to lay down, and tucked him back deeply into his blankets. She beamed down at her son. Sighing, she went back to the doorway.
"Now try to get back to sleep dear." She flicked off the light. " Oh, and Jimmy?"
"Yeah mom?" he yawned.
"No matter where your father is, I will always be here. Don't be afraid of me....Maybe I can make those monsters go away." she smiled and walked back to her room.
Jim grinned turning over to fall back into slumber. He felt safe and protected. As his mother said, the monsters that made him tumble in his sleep did disappear.