CAUTION: There's a really creepy scene in this story. If something like that might bother you, then please be careful.

Dreams, Spells, and Closet Monsters - 1
Copyright 2022 by Heather Rose Brown

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"Michael," said an echoing voice. I couldn't tell if it was speaking softly in both ears at the same time, or shouting from some unimaginable distance away.

I frowned at the emptiness in front of me and said, "It's Michelle now."

"I'm sorry, baby," said the voice. "I've been lost here for so long, memories tend to slip past each other in ... very strange ways."

There'd only been one person who'd ever called me baby. That, along with the mention of being lost, made a few unexpected thoughts click into place.

My throat tightened when I asked, "Is that you, Mom?"

Instead of answering my question, the familiar voice said, "Your sister needs you."

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I did my best to ignore the hand shaking my shoulder, and clung to the last shreds of the dream. The words slipped away before I could make sense of them, leaving me with nothing but a dull ache deep in my chest.

I cracked open an eye, and saw my little sister standing over me. The moonlight peeking through the curtains in my bedroom window made a halo around her shadowed face. "Chellie?" she whispered.

As much as I wanted to pull the covers over my head, the way her voice shook got my attention. "What is it?" I asked as I propped myself up on an elbow.

"There's somethin’ in the closet again."

I closed my eye and sighed. Mom had another one of her freak-out spells the last time we visited her at the hospice. Since then, my little sister had been jumpy and skittish. Knowing there wasn’t much else I could do to get her to go back to bed, I opened both eyes and said, "Okay, just gimme a second."

Once I was awake enough to stand, I climbed out of bed. I poked around with my toes until I found my slippers, slid into them, then trudged across the hall to Sophi's bedroom. When I reached for the old wooden bat leaning against the wall by her closet, Sophi slipped her fingers around my wrist and said, "Be careful."

I smiled at the gentle way she held onto me. While being her big brother hadn't been bad, being Sophi's big sister felt extra special. I knelt beside her, and put an arm around her waist. "Don't worry. I'm always careful. Besides," I said as I tapped the bat on the floor, "I got good ol' Skull Buster with me."

A hint of a smile grew on her face. The smile fell as she said, "I'm just scared of losin' ya, like we lost Mommy."

I could barely talk around the lump in my throat as I pulled my sister close. "Don't worry. I'm never ... ever going away." I dabbed at the tear sliding down her cheek with the sleeve of my nightgown. "Understand?"

She nodded, and a bit of her smile peeked out again. I kissed her forehead as I stood up. "Okay, stand back. Time for me to bust some skulls."

Sophi snickered as she stepped back. Striking a heroic pose, I swung the bat onto my shoulder, and pulled open the closet door. I grinned at her when she giggled, then walked into the shadows.

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The closet was darker than I'd expected. Even if the door had closed behind me, a sliver of moonlight should have showed through the crack at the bottom. I reached out for where I thought the light switch would be. My hand waved through open air.

I took a step forward, and heard a weird crunching. It reminded me of gravel, but more brittle. Thinking I might have stepped on one of Sophi's toys, I reached for the ground. Instead of finding broken plastic, I felt something ... lots of somethings ... crawling and slithering between my fingers.

When a few of the somethings started crawling up my arm, I stood and ran. A small part of me said I shouldn't be able to run in a closet. When a cold and slimy something slid across my ankle, the other parts of me said to run like hell.

Long, bony fingers wrapped around my arm. I skidded to a stop, grabbed Skull Buster with my free hand, and swung it in a wide arc. My ears rung from the high pitched screech when the bat smacked into something solid. The fingers shuddered, then dropped from my arm.

My weapon was yanked from my grip. I didn’t bother looking for it, and concentrated on moving forward. I stumbled into a damp, shaggy wall. A bitter taste rose in the back of my throat when the stink of mildew and month-old meatloaf filled my nostrils.

The wall opened. A warm, sour breeze fluttered through my hair. The ground rose and tilted. I fell forward. I kept falling. A flash of light brought tears to my eyes. I squeeze them shut. The light got brighter. Then, I heard … something. It called out to me.

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"Michelle, wake up," said a deep, kind voice.

For a moment, I floated in the warmth of hearing my real name, then opened my eyes. I found myself lying on the floor of a brightly lit closet, with Dad crouched next to me.

"Whatcha doing in here?" I asked, then wondered why my voice felt so sore.

Sophi slipped in from behind our dad and said, "I'd heard ya scream, and got scared, so I yelled for Daddy." She looked at him and said a little more softly, "Sorry for wakin’ ya up."

As tired as he looked, there wasn't a hint of a lie in his voice when he turned to her and said, "It's okay. You did the right thing calling for me."

As the thump of my pulse slowed, the dream I'd had about Mom came back. A chill ran up my spine when I realized some of what she'd said almost made sense.

"Dad, Sophi ... I think I know where Mom goes when she has one of her spells."

My dad gave me a look. It was the look he always had when Mom went off the deep end.

"I know this sounds crazy," I said, "but ... I think I know how to bring her back."