The Troublemaker

Once upon a time, as Olivia lay cold and still as a grey winter morn, she heard the beast scratching from behind her closet door.

“You can’t come in!” Olivia yelled. “You’re mean and you don’t know how to play properly! Go away!”
The scratching would stop and she would listen as it circled its bed of hay and settled down for the night.

But the sound she dreaded most was the one from under her bed. It was the sound of a baby crying. Olivia knew it wasn’t a real baby. But the sounds were so real that it fooled her every time.

It didn’t always cry, though. Sometimes it cooed and giggled. Or sometimes it simply talked gibberish. What was worse, at least in Olivia’s opinion, was that baby smell. That sweet smell of innocence that made you want to hold it in your arms and not let go.

It was a yearning so strong that Olivia couldn’t help but reach down under the bed and pull the baby out of harms way. And every time she did she was pulled down and under by the Troublemaker.

And the Troublemaker would not let go. It would take her in its arms and try to eat her. He would press her up to his foul mouth and make yummy noises. Yet as hard as the Troublemaker tried to make a meal of Olivia, he never succeeded.

Her grandmother saw to that when, as a child, she had caught the Troublemaker in a deep sleep, and sewed his mouth shut. So the Troublemaker had no choice but to push Olivia back out from under the bed.

That’s when Olivia would wake and realize it was only that bad dream again. She was safe and could go back to bed.

***

Sasha let out a deep sigh as she put the book down.

Reading Olivia’s Bad Dream Book was her favorite thing to do. She enjoyed being frightened, then relieved when the fright went away.

Now it was time for her to go to sleep. And each time she’d think the same thing:

Savage trolls and nasty beasts would not get the best of my dreams, thought Sasha. Then she would fall fast asleep, and the real trouble would start.

Sasha’s mistake was leaving the book open against her tummy. Open to a page where the Troublemaker lurked. The Troublemaker saw his opportunity and he crept out from between the pages, scouring the room in search of a pair of scissors in which to cut the stitches that prevented him from doing what he did best: devouring children and other dislikes.

***

Jonathan closed the book and tossed it on the pile of dirty clothes laying on the bedroom floor. Reading Sasha’s Dreaded Dreams was not to his liking.

What a rotten birthday present, he thought. Who reads that crap?

As Jonathan switched off the light, the Troublemaker crept out among the pile of laundry and continued his search.