Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Prompt: A young boy who longs for a life of fantasy can't get to sleep one night and finds himself thrown into the world of 13:00, where everything works differently. There he meets a boy who looks just like him, who has been stuck in that world for 11 years.

Thanks to Mrs. Powell’s fantasy prompts at <https://mrspowell.wikispaces.com/Fantasy+Writing+Prompts>

“John, go to sleep now. I mean it!” Mom called up the stairs as I crept out of my room to get some water from the hall bathroom. She had the “third strike” tone in her voice, so I just called down, “Okay, good night, Mom,” as I hesitated in the doorway to my dark room.

Taking a deep breath, I sprinted the four steps across and made a heroic leap onto my twin bed so that nothing could reach out and grab me from underneath. I mean, I know there’s not really anything like monsters under the bed, but no sense taking chances, right?

Tucking my feet and arms under the sheet so I’d be safe from anything reaching up for bare skin, I stared out the window, watching for fireflies. I relaxed when I saw one distinctive J-curve, then another. Fireflies don’t come out when monsters around, I bet, so I’m probably safe.

Watching for the flash of the fireflies, I didn’t think my eyes closed, but they popped open when something rapped on my window. I pulled the sheet up over my head, hoping I had dreamed it. Three sharp taps on the glass convinced me to pull the sheet down enough to take another look.

Had a firefly landed on my window? A shadowy form crouched on the outside sill, and I could see lacy wings waving behind it. But it was much too large to be a firefly. Or a moth…

I scrambled up and put my nose almost to the glass. A tiny boy jumped backward in surprise, then grinned and waved with both arms, motioning me to lift the window. I probably shouldn’t have, but I reached up and twisted the finger lock, then pushed up the window.

“Hi John!” the winged boy said. “Come on! We’ve got to get going, or we won’t make it in time.”

“Wait…what? Go where? How do you know my name? What are you talking about?”

The boy jumped up and down, landing with his hands on his hips. “Boyoboy. You said you’d ask a lot of questions. You weren’t kidding.” He shook his head.

“I… what?”

He rolled his eyes. “John. Come on. You. Sent. Me. To. Get. You. Don’t break your brain. Just come with me!”

I shook my head slowly, side to side, trying to make sense of what he said.

“John. We don’t have time. Pleeeeease…Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “I forgot to tell you what you said. Okay, here goes.” He struck a pose with his left hand on his hip and right fist held up in front of his face. “Johnathan Andrew, you were right. There are monsters under the bed. And a sheet blockade is all it takes to foil them.”

I staggered backward from the window. It seemed like a wind was roaring in my ears. I never told anyone. Any. One. About that. I would have been labeled a scaredy cat and sisypants faster than you can say … boo.

I looked around my room.

“What now? Come on! If that doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what I’m going to do here, big guy.”

“Hold on. I just need my sneaks.”


Dogs in house:

“Let It Go” variations on youtube.com

Time writing
~35 minutes

June word count

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