Morgan laid awake in his bed, trying to sleep but failing. His Snoopy and Woodstock cover and sheets lay in a heap at the end of the bed, and he shivered. It was one of those nights, too hot for blankets, too cold without them. His mind swam with memories of Drew, his best friend. One day he was there, the next – gone. Someone had stolen him, right out of his room. Morgan shivered again, this time it wasn’t because of the cold.
“Come,” a soft whisper called from somewhere close, outside. It’s a girl’s voice, but not one he recognized.
The free-falling sensation of a plunging roller coaster washed over him. Automatically, without thought, he’d slipped out of bed and walked to his window. Hovering outside like a firefly was a pure, yellow light – the deep, rich yellow of daffodils and buttercups. He stood, transfixed by the light, and it laughed. A beautiful, tinkling laugh that filled him and made him laugh, too. Morgan opened his window, and pushed the screen out, snapping its frame. He winced at the noise, but nothing else stirred in the quiet house. Everyone was still asleep, even his calico cat, Xandra.
“Come,” the light said, floating away from the window.
Without hesitation, Morgan climbed out of the window and reached for the light. It floated toward him and touched his finger. A warm, yellow light radiated down his finger, over his hand and arms until it enveloped his entire body. It felt like Mama’s hugs, so completely peaceful and comforting. But then, it burned. Hot, searing pain squeezed around him. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Tears welled up in his eyes and evaporated with a sizzle. It hurt so much, and he writhed within the cocoon of yellow light that enclosed him. He could no longer feel the ground beneath his feet.
Morgan thought his bones were about to burst from the fire that burned inside him. Suddenly, there was a yowl and hiss. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a ball of calico fur leap through the air, and the pain ceased. He fell on his side, gasping for breath. Dewy grass soaked his pajamas. Exhaustion pressed on him. Before his eyes closed, Xandra padded over to him and pressed her nose to his.
Morning light streamed into Morgan’s room, stirring him from deep slumber. He blinked away the drowsiness and sat up, stretching. The night before came back to him in a rush and panic squeezed his chest. What had happened? Was it real, or only a dream? He patted his clothes – all dry. His window was closed and locked. It had to have been a dream, right?
Xandra laid curled into a ball below the window. She raised her head and looked at him with narrowed eyes, then lay down again, as if satisfied with whatever she was investigating. Funny, Morgan thought. Xandra never slept in his room.
Hello everyone. I hope you are all doing well. It has been quite some time since I last posted anything and I thought you’d enjoy a good story. This was inspired by a submission call with Full Mood magazine for their 2nd issue. While this story did not make the cut they, and I, believed it needed to be shared. It still took me too long to finally place it here, but good things are with the wait. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, or drop a comment to say hi. As always, it’s good to have you visit.
Image from pixabay.
Russell J. Fellows 