Page 2 of Dream a Little Dream

“Mummy…?”

Muffled shouts and dulled thuds of boots trampling through the house vibrated the walls and his chest squeezed, each breath sharp as jagged ice. He clung to his soft toy, the stuffing straining against the worn seams.

He was alone.

Darkness poured over him in swathes.

He veered closer to the narrow gap in the door, digging his fingers into the fur of his teddy. But a fierce scream had him jolting away.Her. His mother. Screeching a primeval sound tearing through the air and laden with a terror clawing its way inside his tiny heart.

“It was him. Him!Him!”

His father’s returning yell, brimming with defiance, cleaved through the disarray.

“Roisin!Roisin! I’m sorry! I love you, Roisin!”

Passing figures contorted into monstrous shapes on the wall opposite him, a puppet show of horror and his imagination conjured images far worse than any storybook villain, feeding his dread, pushing his pulse to race.

Then the unmistakable sound of a taser rang out, a morbid drumbeat marking the end of something he couldn’t quite grasp.

Life as he knew it.

He recoiled to the back of the cupboard, teddy absorbinghistremors.

Haunting silence followed. And he forced his quivering to still, listening for any hint of what lay beyond the safety of his walls. Moments dragged like hours, each tick of the clock on the wall outside like a thunderclap. Eyes wide, he never left the sliver of light at the bottom of the cupboard door where the shadows danced. Until a shape blocked his view, and the door creaked open, cutting a shaft of light through the darkness,illuminating him and crowning the silhouette of a man coated in white plastic.

He flinched away.

The man’s face, as he crouched to his level, was a mask of professionalism, but his eyes showed his horror at finding him huddled in his cupboard.

“Hey there.” The man extended a hand to him, then pulled down his mask to call out to those beyond his walls. “There’s a kid in here! Get family liaison.Now!” He then beckoned him with softer tones. “You can come out now. You’re safe.”

His words, though meant to comfort, hung heavily in the air. Was he safe? He didn’t think he was. His mummy wasn’t there, waking him up with a soft lullaby, stroking her delicate fingers through his hair, telling him he was precious.

“Where’s mummy?”

“You’re safe.” How could he be safe whenshewasn’t there? “I’m a police officer. PC Bentley. You can call me Jack.”

With one last look at the familiar confines of the cupboard—his castle, his spaceship, hisden—he placed his tiny hand in the policeman’s and stepped into the unknown.

“What’s your name?” Jack asked.

The world beyond the cupboard was a blur of white suits darting between rooms, urgent voices ricocheting off the walls. His heart hammered as he clutched his teddy to his chest and he shook his head in reply. He knew his name. But he wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers.

“Stay close to me,” Jack said, a gentle hand on his back guiding him onwards.

His home, once filled with laughter and bedtime stories, had transformed into an alien landscape. Family photos askew, drawers yanked open with their contents spilled along with their secrets, and his steps faltered as he was ushered towards the front door.

The cool outside air nipped his cheeks. He hadn’t been outside in…he wasn’t sure how long but long enough to not remember it, and he squinted as he walked into the night, blue lights atop the car painting the sky in strokes of sombre colour. His house, usually surrounded by peaceful woodland, was now guarded by navy and black uniforms, as if it was a prison. He darted his eyes around, searching for something familiar. Something safe.

But there was nothing.

Then, amidst the sea of strangers, stood a man, a figure of calm in the storm. With dark unruly hair to his jawline, intense deep eyes, no police uniform, and a furrow in his brow questioning his little hand clutched in the policeman’s.

“Did you know they had akid?” Jack’s voice was hushed as he spoke to the dark-eyed man as if not to alert others to their muted conversation. Their exchange was a sparkling, crackling thing. Like a firework. Like his parents were when together.

The man shook his head, gazing down at him. A silent exchange passed between them, and in that moment, his own confusion mirrored in the man’s eyes. But he saw something else he couldn’t quite place.

His saviour?

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