Somber Familiar

My feet are clawed tightly around the covers of my bed. No toe is to peek out into the deep dark abyss of the night. I know what will happen if they do, and I dare not sneak a look towards those glaring red eyes once more. He has never moved from that looming spot, never growled or snarled or showed any sign that he was more than a shadow of my now frankly darkening imagination. He just stands there watching and waiting to pounce if I make one wrong move, one toe out of alignment. I'm not scared, not really, I will gradually fall asleep, albeit with the floral covers firmly over my head. These sheets are of more comfort holding me to this bed than his piercing eyes. I imagine his black fur so deep and flowing around him that the shadows stretched farther into the night, and his teeth, white, a stark difference to the darkening room; growing darker and heavier until suddenly, blissful sleep.

The sun grasps me from my slumber and pulls me one fearful toe after the other from my tomb of flowers. My 18th birthday, childhood was now left behind in its tattered remains of dusty memories never to awaken again. That nightly companion keeps them away from my dreams. His presence bares down on my sleep keeping nightmares at bay. A strange trait for such a fearsome creature.

My mother was excited to leave the house for the day. It's heavy foreboding was lifted as soon as we all left, and my demon was howling its emptiness behind me as we drove away.

“Happy Birthday sweetheart.” My dad smiles as the family car pulls into the museums parking area. ‘Myths and legends of East England’ the sign reads above the door. My imagination prickles with wicked elation. I enter the first room and gasp, my breath still and cold in my chest. Those eyes had never met mine in the day. Closer my feet move, toes daring to dig into the ground and propel me forward. There on the wall was the image of my sleep guardian. I slowly read the words of his tale. ‘Black Shuck, is the name given to a ghostly black dog which is said to roam East Anglia. Descriptions of the creature's appearance- black shadow fur, white sharp fangs and gleaming red eyes; it is sometimes recorded as an omen of death, but, in other instances, is described as companionable. A protector of young women.’

'A protector of women’ I thought crawling into bed that night, staring at the now soulful eyes of the dog who had kept my nightmares from me all these years. One solemn paw now urged me to comfort in amongst the sheets. “Good boy shuck” I tell him, as he licks at my toes peering out of my covers. Sleep, yes, how easy you are to find tonight. “Thank you” left my lips as I finally gave into the darkness.