Anzie's 68th Table Shop
Jan 3, 2015 19:10:33 GMT -5
Post by анзие (Anz) on Jan 3, 2015 19:10:33 GMT -5
Knuckles
[googlefont="Shadows Into Light:400"]
Thunder Hawk
lyric ;Aiden is scared of the dark.
Or it’s not the dark he’s scared of, at least. It’s other things he can see and hear and feel that belong to the dark, and these are the things that scare him. He doesn’t like that these things; they reach for him, dark misshapen hands giving off a rotting smell (that he’s shocked no one has noticed yet), tendrils of black shadow-smoke that tries to curl into his own struggling shadow, tries to take him over. He curls himself under his blankets most nights where the hands can’t see his shadow long enough to catch it.
But under the blanket is also where glowing coins float in the air, coins that look very much like irises in a person’s eye. Where hands curl around his legs and hands and try to coax him into a darker side, a darker place.
There are other voices too, tempting and sweet. They try to tell him that they are Mother and Father (but they really aren’t).
Tonight is different.
Father’s presence seems to keep the dark away. Father’s hand on his shoulder gives him his own strength to giggle in the face of his demons.
And when at night, when the bad dreams come (and this night he’s caught in a hungry ground that gulps at his immovable legs; it’s sand, quicksand, he’s being dragged down and under as the sand crushes his tiny torso, forcing the breath out of his legs - he struggles to breathe, struggles to live, tries to catch at the too-high, taunting vines dangling above his head, cries out for help when a hand takes his and the sand is gone), Father holds his hand, Father rubs his back gently and soothingly, Father kisses his temple and tells the bad dreams to go away. Father is the one who whispers in his ear, “It’s going to be alright.”
Aiden believes him.
