Darkness covered the room. Midnight, the chimes from the grandfather clock “dongs.”
The bass dong’s don’t awaken her, but she’s awake expecting them.”It’s’s their time to come.”
Under the covers, she hides.
“Maybe, they won’t notice I’m awake.”
Her eyes are huge and the beats of her heart will surely tell the black cloaked monks, “she’s faking sleep.”
“They come out from the closet. Three of them. Extremely tall. They’re working at something. The covers, their cloaks and the darkness hide their doings.They will peer over my body, looking to see me sleeping. They don’t know everything. But, if I look at them, their red eyes stare. I can’t see a face. They tell me to, ‘shut up.’ Meaness. That’s all I can say. They’re not good.”
*Note from the experienced participate.
“Now I’m 60 years past their visits. However my daughter who’s 32 now, also saw them when she was young and when we visited the home I grew up in, the house my father built.. We drew matching pictures. They were easy to draw as there were no faces, just red glaring mean threatening eyes. My daughter saw more of them as they showed her a horrifying vision of the future. The future looked bleak for the person in the vision. The name of the person is withheld. They threatened her. She had to look. I was too afraid and for many nights when they came, somehow, I climbed from my bed and crawled down the hall to my sister’s room. There I slept in the doorway on the floor. I felt safe.”
“We discussed this matter and drew like scetches, 2 years ago and not a day before.”
Posted from WordPress for Android @copyright 2013 Bonnie Jennings
Posted from WordPress for Android
@copyright 2013 Bonnie Jennings