Dust Bunnies

I was eight when I stopped believing in monsters.  I was eleven when I learned the truth.  It was a blissful three years.

You see, it was shortly after my eleventh birthday.  Summer was in full swing, and even the night air was humid and stuffy.  It was cloying really, like if I didn't stand in front of that lousy window unit, I might suffocate, the air was so thick.  We were all sticky with sweat, my family, I mean.  I had been extra irritated because my littlest sister was practically glued up my butt, she wouldn't leave me alone.  Her name was Grace.  She was three at the time, almost four, and she kept wanting me to pick her up and hold her.  

If I had known what was coming, I wouldn't have been such a mean older sister.  I'll never forgive myself.  

My bedroom had a window that spilled out onto an overhang of the roof.  It overlooked our backyard, above the porch.  At night, I would often climb out of my window and sit on the roof, looking up at the stars and making up new constellations.  Gracie had come looking for me in my room after having a nightmare.  

Usually, I used to stay up and comfort her.  She would snuggle up next to me, even though my twin size bed was crowded.  I would tell her a story to distract her until she fell asleep.  

That night, she didn't find me in my bed.  She somehow managed to crawl through my window when she saw where I was hiding.  I didn't even hear her, until she sat next to me and tugged at my shirt.  "Glory," she whimpered.  She could never get my name right.  

Her sudden appearance startled me, and I snapped at her.  I knew that I would be in trouble again for being out here, but if our parents caught her sitting up there with me, I would have been horse fodder, for sure.  I grabbed her unceremoniously and nearly threw her back through my window, with a swatt on the butt.  My bed was up against the wall, below the window, and she cowered under my pillows, and cried while I climbed back through.  

I shoved her off.  I was so angry.  I never would have done it, if I had known.  I never should have treated her that way in the first place.  But we don't get do-overs. 

There was a moment where she sat there, stunned, while she processed what I had just done to her.  And then, as if she and the world stopped holding it's breath, she started to wail. All of a sudden, my bed was shaking something fierce, as if the earth rumbled with her in distress.  The shadows under my bed seemed to swell, and something in the darkness flashed, and all I could do was watch, frozen in place, as she was dragged under my bed.  It was over within seconds, and I was left alone the sudden silence ringing in my ears. 

I thought my bed was still shaking, but I quickly realized that it was me.  I screamed, and my parents came barreling through my door.  I stammered out what had happened, and they were furious, they thought I was joking.  

I was now having a full-blown panic attack, I was hysterical.  I wouldn't get off of my bed, they had to drag me.  Finally, the looked under my bed for me, but all they saw were a few dust bunnies.  I couldn't believe it.  I didn't understand it.  

My mom searched my whole room, while my dad gripped my arm so tightly I was losing the feeling in my fingers.  I didn't care though.  Finally, my mom had turned to me. She thought I might have pushed my sister out of the window, but they didn't see her body anywhere.  They woke up my big brother to help them search the house.  

After several hours, they were starting to take me a little more seriously.  Gracie wasn't anywhere to be found.  They called the police.  

Months went by, and still they couldn't believe that something had reached out from under my bed.  They took me to therapy, and told me that I had made it all up in my head.  That someone must have broken in through the window, and I had been so scared that my brain made up a different story to cope.  

My parents were on the news every week, begging for anyone who had seen anything to come forward.  The whole town took part in search parties, and putting up flyers.  Before long, all that seemed left of my baby sister were missing posters.

After a few months, I could finally stomach being back in my own room.  But whenever my parents weren't around, I still felt the need to avoid stepping too close to the shadows under my bed.  I would leap from halfway across the room, and pull my blankets out onto the roof to sleep until it started to get too cold.  

My parents kept me in therapy for the rest of the year.  After a while, I believed them.  I believed that I had made it all up, too.  

Reviews

[Bryanna]

I find myself to be moderately frustrated with how simply you ended this piece. it felt very detailed - almost as if i was there experiencing it for myself, and then quick as before i was reading a short bullet point ending. a little detail in the conclusion could go a long way. This said, i am in love with the concept and your writing style- especially the opening chunk. and you have an incredibly captivating title that i believe ties into the piece wonderfully!

[Keegan]

Thank you so much for the review, I'm very glad that you like it! Perhaps I can review some of your stuff tomorrow, as a thank you, if I get a break during or after work :)

I apologize for the short, abrupt ending. I had planned another chapter, and started it even, but had to go to bed, and work, and then the next thing I know, it's several days later. I have since added to it and published it now for public view, but it's still a work in progress, I do apologize.

I'm currently working three jobs however, so it can be very hard to keep up with my writing the way I'd like to. I'm making a serious effort now, however, because I'm kind of falling in love with this story and the characters, and I'm really excited to share it with people.

Anyways, thanks again. Let me know if you have any work you'd like a review on. I'll try to be keeping this updated regularly. Have a good night.

[Bryanna]

thank you, that would be fantastic! Don't apologize though, it can be extremely difficult to conclude such an intense tale. After re-reading it, I've actually come to enjoy the briefness of the conclusion, as i believe it adds to the ending of her being told she's creating the memory, as if she's trying to dismiss herself and the experience as nothing- just as her parents have. All about perspective!

I do look forward to reading more of your work, so please do keep writing! It can be hard, but I found once i made more time for writing myself, my days became less hectic, and my mind a bit clearer!

best of wishes:)

[matrixmark]

So I do wonder as to where this is going to go. The girl is obviosuly questioning her own sanity and her parents don't believe a word she has said. This is quite an interesting start to a story where I can't work out as to where you are going to take it. It flowed nicely and was an easy read. It's intriguing as to whether the monster will come back or whether her parents will actually start to believe what she is saying. It's interesting that you titled it 'dust bunnies' as it this has me asking 'are they going to come into play too?' Or am I reading too much into it. One thing is for certain, it certainly has got my attention as to where you take it next. I liked the images, but what I like the most is the mystery of it all.

Nicely done.

Mark.