Rononvan’s Friday Fiction challenge

The prompt for Ronovan’s challenge this week is a (very tiny) picture.

airplaine

The title of my story is:

A safe place

William turned on his pillow to face the door. It always came through the door when he wasn’t looking. He scattered toys on the floor so he would hear if it tried to sneak up on him, but his mother always tidied them away when she looked in on him before she went to bed.

He’d asked her not to do it but she’d said “It’s dangerous, Pugsley. Somebody might fall on them and hurt themselves.”

Yeah, that’s the idea, he’d wanted to say, but how could you expect a woman who called you ‘Pugsley’ to understand anything important like that?

It was too late now. He daren’t get out of bed. The house was silent and dark, and if he moved it would know he was awake. He hated the house where the thing lived. He hated his parents for letting it live there. The storybook told him there was a place where the thing wouldn’t find him. Where not even his mother would find him. When he saw a shooting star, he made a vow that the next time the thing came, he would go there.

The door creaked. Fear made his insides turn over on themselves, and he clutched the plane in his fist. The shiny metal felt solid and comforting against his sweaty palm. He ran the wheels over the sheet to test that everything was working. The door opened a little further. He could see the darkness of the hallway drifting into the room, hear the cold, clammy sound of breathing.

“Now,” he whispered.

The wheels whished across the sheet; the engines rumbled to life. William clung to the shuddering fuselage, his teeth gritted in a smile of triumph. The door flew open but he was already gone, another star in the night sky.

 

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

16 thoughts on “Rononvan’s Friday Fiction challenge”

  1. You have an imagination. And you leave things open for the imagination of others to fill in the blanks. I wonder what those fill-ins say about each of us? 🙂

  2. This is pure storytelling magic:
    “The wheels whished across the sheet; the engines rumbled to life. William clung to the shuddering fuselage, his teeth gritted in a smile of triumph. The door flew open but he was already gone, another star in the night sky.”

    It’s such a beautiful end to a story that was getting kind of harrowing there.

      1. Yes and I’m not alone in that. His father would not let me end the tale without some happiness. So he came up with a solution and I, being the good scribe, wrote it down. Demanding people these characters, don’t you find? 😉

      2. Yes, they do. Yet they forget that I do need to do other things than note down every adventure that they’re having right as they are having it. At least I have plenty of material! 🙂

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