By Day 7
The Bed
It all comes back to me now,
So long ago that it almost
seems insignificant.
But it is very much the
reason why I am so afraid
of letting my arm or leg
slide over the edge of the bed.
My brother, at the urging of
our mother, hid under my bed.
Waiting quietly, patiently for me
to get ready for bed.
At last I was ready. I got into bed,
Put my covers on and of course
my doll fell to the floor.
I reached over the edge of the bed
my arm stretching to get my doll.
When all at once I felt a hand!
Grabbing my wrist, it was cold,
and I screamed as loud as my little
voice could. The hand would not
let go. I was terrified.
At last my mother came in laughing
and the hand let go.
My brother came out from under the bed
ran to our mother and started laughing
with her. I was crying uncontrollably, balled up
against the wall.
“Don’t be such a baby!” “Can’t you take a joke?”
The voice I heard was that of my mother.
The last thing I heard that night was the door
closing and the laughter.
I quietly sobbed myself to sleep.
Never again did I let any part of me
hang over the edge of The Bed.
