The warmth of a gold picture frame

He could feel the darkness edge closer and closer, stop, and then linger at the edge of his bed. The nightlight was not on tonight; it was not on for the past week. But he had his blanket for armor. He took great precaution to make sure that no toe, finger, elbow, or piece of pajama material would break lose of spider man’s web. But the shadows’ chants grew louder and creepier. If only his dad were here to fix the nightlight and make the shadows disappear, he thought. But his mother and father were not there to chase the monsters away; they left him alone to go live in that better place that aunt Mary spoke about. But if this place was so special, then why did aunt Mary cry, and why did they leave him alone with the monsters, with no nightlight. With this rather mature contemplation, he gathered up his courage, and teddy, and prepared to cross the dark abyss of his bedroom floor. Once out of the darkness, and in the safe light of the hallway, he picked up the gold picture frame. Frame and teddy now in hand, he went back to bed.

When she went to check up on him, aunt Mary found him cuddling a framed picture of his mother and father at some wedding. She was afraid that the wooden edges might hurt his soft arms, and so she tried to ease it from his embrace and replace it with teddy. But even in his deep slumber he would not let go.