At a window of a house there is a child who sits and stares, staring down onto the street. Where a man stands underneath a street lamp, his face obscured by night. She knows though, that he is smiling, waiting, patiently.
“It’s time for bed.” Mum enters the room. She takes her child by the hand and leads her to bed.
“But what about the man outside my window?”
“There’s no man. Now time to dream of the angels.” She kisses her child and leaves.
The house now lies in darkness. The child, still awake, can hear footsteps cross the pavement towards her house. Outside the door, the man sees no barrier, he simply enters. At the bottom of the stairs, he begins his rise. Outside the child’s door, he breathes slowly and enters.
He stands calmly at the foot of her bed. Staring. She is hidden under her cover. His arm slowly slithers round her leg. She tries to scream, but nothing escapes. She is dragged out of bed. She is pulled down the stairs. Out of the door. She claws at the ground, nothing works. Under the street lamp she finally screams.
By ZeLee
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