With the curtains drawn, she could hear the shadow of the trees whistling against the bare wall, its branches reaching, and barely licking the foot of her bed.
On any normal occasion, the covers would be pulled tightly over her tiny little frame with her voice trembling as she prayed to make the monsters go away, and for her hero: her father,
who usually saved her from the imaginative distress.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, the moonlight illuminated the somber expression on her face as she traced the outline of her father’s reassuring smile by memory, not wanting to forget.
The trees turned into background noise- insignificant rumblings that weren’t enough to catch her attention.
It was as if he bestowed onto her the power to overcome this fear; his last parting gift, her mother said.
But at her words, Sierre couldn’t help but desire for the monsters to come back, because maybe- just maybe- her dad would come to the rescue one last time.
She sank further into her bed, covers drawn, using her blanket as a pretend shield to protect herself from the monsters she no longer believed.