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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2241876-JP-woolen-blankets
by Ark!
Rated: E · Short Story · Environment · #2241876
Eyes dream.
She was a factory worker in town, a mill girl, she sheared panels of material into blankets and hemmed them. Occasionally and at rare times like holidays, Ma would bring one or more of those red woolen blankets home. They were scratchy material and I hated being covered with one, but Ma covered me with it every night. I hated those blankets so much that I began to hold my breath as she left me there in my little room under the red woolen blanket, turned out the light and closed the door. Not many nights of holding my breath went by before I would begin to see parts of eyes appear before me. Within a week of this behavior I would be seeing entire eyes looking at me as I continued to hold my breath. Then one night the incomprehensible happened. The same routine occurred but after seeing the eyes looking at me everything went blank and I could feel myself being pulled irresistibly under my bed. Now I could never determine whether or not it was an ugly old woman or a witch that I determined was there under my bed waiting for me and whisking me off to a strange yet familiar place. The ugly old woman would be gone and I would be left with adults under a raft out in the lake that my Dad would take us to on Sundays. It was my favorite place in the world. But who were these adults and why were they circling around under the raft in the water and why was I among them? Slap, I heard the shade slam up and there was Ma with that smile. Time for breakfast she would say. Ma was the best cook. She was a French chef. Bottle of wine and all, the house filled with aroma when she cooked anything. I was young and days went by fast. Learning manuscript at school, kick ball at recess, a hot dog for lunch and a walk home. A routine for every child’s day but the nights, without Ma’s smile I doubt I would have survived. Came a time when my nighttime escapades to the lake and the ugly old woman began to make me angry, especially the feeling of being pulled under my bed. So, one night, and to this day I don’t know where I got the idea, but I went to bed imagining that I had an apple in my hand and that when the witch appeared I would throw it at her. And so it went but with one surprise. It all stopped. The eyes, the being pulled under my bed, the lake. All of it! I tried to tell Ma but she just said it was a dream. Of what sort? So real it was.
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