Tiny, Clever Hands
Agnes clutched the pillow to her head tighter, but it didn't help. She couldn't breathe like that, but she wouldn't be able to sleep if she relaxed it.
It was the same every night.
Maybe... maybe tonight will be... be quiet... she thought to herself.
Well, lied to herself.
She didn't believe for a second that it would be quiet tonight.
It never was.
Still, every month or so, she couldn't stand trying to breathe through the pillow and blankets, and said the words she didn't believe, and relaxed her grip just enough to get some air...
... and then she'd hear them, which would terrify her so much that she couldn't even get to sleep for a few nights, followed by about a week of sheet-ripping nightmares, then a week of sleep-wrecking nightmares, and in a couple of weeks, she'd be trying to breathe and lying to herself again.
So, when Agnes lifted the pillow from her head, and heard the raccoons scrabbling and clawing at every door and window of the house, even though she screamed and started sobbing and hiccuping, she was blaming herself.
It was the same every night.
Maybe... maybe tonight will be... be quiet... she thought to herself.
Well, lied to herself.
She didn't believe for a second that it would be quiet tonight.
It never was.
Still, every month or so, she couldn't stand trying to breathe through the pillow and blankets, and said the words she didn't believe, and relaxed her grip just enough to get some air...
... and then she'd hear them, which would terrify her so much that she couldn't even get to sleep for a few nights, followed by about a week of sheet-ripping nightmares, then a week of sleep-wrecking nightmares, and in a couple of weeks, she'd be trying to breathe and lying to herself again.
So, when Agnes lifted the pillow from her head, and heard the raccoons scrabbling and clawing at every door and window of the house, even though she screamed and started sobbing and hiccuping, she was blaming herself.