Lost dog: It’s giving me kittens.
There was a commotion in the attic,
A creaking of boards, the scuffling of feet.
The ruckus drowned out all except my pounding heartbeat.
I cowered below my covers like a mouse,
As shadows crept over my room,
And listened as the scraping noises
Made their way down the chimney breast.
I was seven years old and this was the most frightening thing of my life!
I tilted my head side to side
Hoping to pick up the exact spot of the ghost,
But it had settled in the living room
And was rustling around in the hope of finding me.
I held my breath for what seemed hours
Praying that the creature would eventually leave;
It did, with an accompanying booming laugh.
Had it got my baby sister, or my mum and dad?
Was I going to go downstairs to a rubbish dump?
When I finally stirred the next morning
I slipped on my dressing gown, slippers and mittens
(it was very cold)
And crept downstairs into a freezing front room.
“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” My parents shouted!
“Did you hear Santa last night?” They asked.
And to this day, I think I may have!
(Image courtesy FallenAngelNina on deviantart.com)
I’ve a chill down my back
It creeps along my spine
Like witch’s fingers,
Feeling for a weakness,
Probing for a place to insert the knife.
What have I done to deserve such treatment,
I am a good person, am I not?
My dark secret is from moons ago.
A midnight misdemeanour was mine.
A dark night:
A bin bag;
The old lady mourned for months
Her only friend,
I was sad when she passed away.
From a broken heart,
Or so they said.
I even went to the funeral.
But, ever since then I’ve heard meowing
In the darkest hours,
And now that I think about it,
It feels like damp fur against my back
Not fingers at all!
And what’s that noise,
(Image courtesy silentfuneral on deviantart.com)