This is a true story. I know because the little boy was me.
It happened one night when I was about ten. My mother, step-father, and I lived in a one bedroom apartment in what we used to call a three family house. It was three floors with a different family on each floor. Our apartment was on the top floor. My parents had the bedroom at the front of the apartment. It had windows on three sides. The front windows faced the street, and on each side of the room were windows facing the neighboring houses which were only about fifteen feet away. The bedroom was fairly large, with the head of the bed up against the solid wall and facing the front window. Outside the window was a large elm tree that was taller than the house. It's branches shaded the house from the sun in the daytime and from the street lights at night.
It was common practice for me to go to bed early in my parent's bed while they stayed up in the living room. When it was time for them to turn in for the night, they would wake me up and walk me to the living room where the couch made into a bed. It was the old pull-out hide-a-bed type. In the morning I never remembered making the trip. I would go to sleep in their bed and wake up in mine with no memory of how I got there.
On this one night I think we must have been listening to some spooky stories on the radio, but I don't remember for sure. All I remember is what happened next.
It was time to go to bed and so I changed in the bathroom and said good night to mom and pop. I went into the bedroom and saw that mom had turned down the covers for me. All was ready for a good night's rest. I looked around and then, clicking off the light, I jumped into the big double bed and slipped under the covers.
As I lay in the darkened room, my eyes adjusted to the small amount of light from the street lights outside. I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep.
What was that? I heard a noise from across the room. I looked but saw nothing. Must be my imagination. I lay still, listening. There is is again! I sat up and looked around in the dark. Nothing. No sound and no movement. I scrunched down in the blankets and lay still. I had to get to sleep. It seemed as if I had been lying there for hours, but I am sure it was only minutes. I heard the noise again. Something scurrying over by the window? What could it be? Should I turn on the light? Should I call mom and pop? No. I am too old for that. So I just stayed there and listened to the sound trying to imagine what it could be.
Then I saw it. It looked like a head peeking up over the foot of the bed. Who could it be? It was not moving. It was watching me. As I looked at it in the darkness I could make out the head and the shoulders. And yes there was one arm draped over the foot of the bed. The sound had stopped, and now as I lay very still I wondered what it was. It did not move. Who had slipped into my parents room and was now watching me so silently, waiting for me to go to sleep? I was petrified. But if I called out what would this monster do? Would it kill me before pop could get there? Maybe it was waiting for me to go to sleep so it could sneak out. I could be imagining this thing. But I could see it. Right there on the bed at my feet. It never moved.
It was silent now. It was just me and the unknown man alone in the room. If I called out for help I might get in trouble. If I was wrong I would get yelled at. Or worse I would be laughed at. What I could do? Nothing. I would just lay there and wait. I could do that. I could wait for it to do something so I would know for sure what it was. I started to move my feet up toward the top of the bed and away from him. I think he moved too. I better be still. I don't want him to move or do anything. I am so scared I can't move now. I am sure this is the end. This man has come to get me, as I had been warned so many times. Was this what they meant by "the boogie man"?
I could hear the clock ticking. Once in a while a car would drive past. I could hear them outside. I could hear mom and pop in the other room too. The radio was on, and they were talking softly. Time passed slowly as I watched for any further movement by the intruder. I should have been asleep long ago.
Finally, I hear the radio go off. Then footsteps coming toward the bedroom. It must be time for me to move to my own bed. Now pop would save me from the man on the bed. If I waited just a minute longer I would be ok. I heard pop's hand on the door knob. He turned it slowly and pushed the door open. As pop entered the room he clicked on the light and there it was. I could finally see the monster on the foot of the bed.
Pop slowly picked up the the bunched up bedspread from the foot of the bed and put it over the back of a nearby chair. With that one action he saved me from the monster. It was a good thing I didn't call for help in getting rid of the bedspread monster. Pop wondered why I was wide awake, but I kept silent and walked in and climbed into my own bed. The only time I remember making that walk.
A little boy. A bedspread and probably the branches of the elm tree scratching against the window. Oh, yes, and a vivid imagination. I slept well the rest of the night. I knew that whatever happened pop would come in and save me in the morning.
ed: After that night I always checked to see that nothing was on the bed before I turned out the lights.
Those of us who write the stories you like to read have received and continue to receive a lot of support from ASSTR (Alt.Sex.Stories.Text.Repository). The major thing they do for us is archive our stories and make them available to you, the readers. This is a non-profit organization and is staffed entirely by volunteers. The operation is costly, and the only income they receive is from donations. That being the case, I ask that you consider making a donation if you have enjoyed my stories. No contribution is too small. It will help to make sure these stories remain available for all to read free. You can find out about donating at this link:
