Run!
My kid has always struggled with bedtime. When he still had his baby monitor in his room we would lock the door from the outside. I know what you're thinking, but please understand it was better than the alternative. Haven't you seen all those news reports about lone 2 year olds wandering the streets at night? We tried baby gates in the hallway but he would just make himself a toy mound to climb over it. Behind his locked door he was safe. His baby monitor was loud enough that we could hear him breathing. We would wake up to his chipper voice in the wee hours, chatting with stuffed animals or calling to us to make him pancakes. It was cute, but also extremely exhausting. We stopped locking the door when he began potty training. At first we bribed him with a tablet to stay in bed, but that just messed up his sleep schedule even more. The bright light hindered his body's natural sleep process. We tried a melatonin supplement, which worked, but it felt wrong so we stopped. We started threatening to take toys away, he'd cry and promise to stay in bed, but would forget as soon as we were all back in our own beds. The hallway light would click on and he'd be running around the house again. This is why I started laying with him in his bed until he fell asleep. We would cuddle and chat for a little while before he nodded off peacefully. Sometimes I'd fall asleep with him, but usually I'd carefully get up and go back to my own room. On those nights we would find him asleep on the couch in the morning. Last night was different. I had my back to him as he dozed. I had let my own eyes close while I thought about what we should do when we woke up. A soft scratching interrupted my thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked around. My son's nightlight was on the headboard, softly illuminating the room. I clicked my tongue a few times, thinking the cat had wandered in before I closed the door. Nothing moved. "Don't call it over, mom." My son whispered behind me, as he scooted in against my back. "It's probably Bean. Why-" I started to ask him why he didn't want the cat to cuddle with us, but he shushed me. "Mommy it's not Bean-bean." I've always been afraid of the dark. Having a kid has made me braver, but I have to be honest and tell you that I can still get pretty scared. My son's words caused a knot to form in my stomach. I looked around the room for anything out of place. Everything looked normal. His bookshelf was sitting neatly by the door, his toy box was in its usual state of disarray, and his laundry hamper was empty in the opposite corner. A few feet from the bed sat his playhouse. Its closed door was facing the bed and had a small window into the darkness. It was unnerving to stare in to that pitch blackness, while the rest of the room was soaked in the faint yellow glow of the nightlight. I scolded myself for being silly. I was letting my five year old's imagination get the best of me. The scratching returned, definitely coming from the little house. *He locked Bean in there.* I told myself. *I need to get up and let her out.* I shifted to get up. "Nooo!" My son whispered, wrapping his little arms around my waist. "No mommy! Leave it alone! It goes away if you leave it alone!" I could feel him trembling against my back. The knot in my stomach grew. *You are an adult!* I thought, *it's just the cat. Stop being a coward and go let it out, before it pees all over the playhouse.* I had just peeled my son's arm away from me and began sitting up when I saw something pass in front of the little window. Too tall to be a cat. I froze. *leave it alone and it will go away.* "What is it?" I whispered to the terrified child behind me. "The bald man." He shuddered. That's all I needed to hear. My heart began to race and the knot in my stomach pushed up into my throat. Even if I wanted to yell for my husband my body wouldn't let me. Still, My adult brain was trying to tell me that it was just the cat. "It won't get us if we leave it alone." He whispered, as he pulled on my shirt to get me to lay back down next to him. The scratching continued on and off for the next several minutes. My eyes were glued to the window. "What do you do if the door opens?" I managed to whisper. "Run." *that's why he wakes us up with the hallway light. He's running away from it.* I shook my head to get rid of the thought. I was being ridiculous. I was letting myself get sucked in to my child's nightmare. *It's just the cat!* I told myself as a rolled over, putting my back to the playhouse, and wrapping my arms around my son. "It's just Bean. Close your eyes and go to sleep. I'll let her out before I go back to bed." *too loud!* I thought as the scratching stopped. *It heard you!* I hugged my son tighter and closed my eyes, willing myself to stop being ridiculous. Behind me I thought I could hear faint rattling breaths. *Stop it! It's just the ceiling fan!* My son's breathing slowed. He had his mom, he felt safe enough to fall asleep. I, on the other hand, was wide awake and had my ears on high alert. Every creak of the house settling, every distant dog bark, and every car engine outside caused my anxiety to rise just a little more. The weight of knowing the playhouse window was staring at my unguarded back was pounding down on me. Scratching. Louder rattled breaths. The unmistakable sound, of plastic rubbing against plastic, as the play house door slowly opened. *RUN!* I pulled my son to my chest and lifted him as I bolted up, standing on the bed. His head peered over my shoulder as I leapt over the footboard and landed on the floor. "It's coming!" He shrieked as I took his full weight in my left arm to open his door with my right. "The light! Mommy the light!" I slammed my hand into the hallway light switch, as we ran past it, into the living room. "It can't go past the light." He breathed a relieved sigh. Once on the couch he fell right to sleep. The terror of his bedroom washed away by the comfort of the faux leather cushions and our decorative pillows. I spent the rest of the night listening to the noises in his room. The scratching against his walls. The toys being moved around. I looked over to the cat tree, illuminated by the hallway light. Bean was fast asleep on the top tier.