Sunday, August 28, 2011

"It'll Come For You!"

“Tell me a scary story, Papa,

One that won’t let me sleep,”

“Okay, child, I’ll tell you one,

That will be dark and deep,”

“Papa, is it the one about a toe,

Where the monster seeks revenge?”

“No, child, this one is scarier yet,

And you’ll be in the middle, not on the fringe,”

“Papa, tell me true,

 Is it something that happened to you?”

“Yes, my child, once when all was locked tight,

I was writing a story in the midst of night,

When out of the corner of my eye,

I saw a movement, then a shape in the moonlight,

I turned but not fast enough,

For only a shadow remained in sight,

Then it, too, was gone in a flash,”

“My mind is playing tricks on me,” I said,

“I think it’s time for me to go to bed,”

“Papa, is that the end of the story?”

“Be patient, my child, for there is more,

I went into my room and closed the door,

But I could feel , yes, feel, eyes fixed outside,

Wanting for me to open wide the door,

And so I did, expecting nothing but my fear,

But there was a man standing there,

I guess he’d been there for awhile,

Looking at me straight on with an evil smile,”

“Papa, were you scared, what did you do?”

“He wore a cloak, his eyes were red,

I closed the door, stayed awake in bed,

Waited until the dawn’s first light,

To see if I was alive or dead,

He was standing in that very hall,

Now go to sleep, if you can sleep at all,”

“Papa, I’m scared, is this story true?

Did this really happen to you?”

“Child, it happened night after night,

Your mother couldn’t take it,

Always mumbling about an awful fright,

Eventually it scared her enough  and she took flight,

She’s living in a home for those disturbed,

Claiming she’s okay and not perturbed,

She claims my story is quite inane,

And I’m the one who’s really insane,

My story is not long, but it is true,

Now go to sleep, my child, or it’ll come for you.”

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