I’m way too late for this prompt. Will do it nonetheless, because it’s awesome.
Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Turn that line into the title of your post.
I played around with my mp3-player, and this was the first song that played.
Something’s wrong tonight. She hadn’t heard them fighting for a while now, and the cold air was coming through the windows with a louder whooshing sound than before. The children were sent up to their rooms during dinner, and she could hear her little brother scratching on the wall they shared. He liked to draw pictures in the thick green paint with their mother’s old knitting needle, dragons and monsters and goats in dresses from his storybooks.
She got on her knees on the wooden floors. Usually one or both her parents came to say her prayers with her, but tonight there was only the silence that followed the outbreak. In the middle of the row she heard glass break, it was not uncommon for her mother to throw things against the walls.
“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I shall die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
She ran over to the window and leaned out the heavy frame. Outside the night was black and brooding, it crept like ink into the light. She carefully closed the window and leaped back into bed for fear of something grabbing her ankles. She pinched her eyes shut, and counted her breaths. She couldn’t stop her heart from beating, and prayed some more, even though she was no longer on her knees, for the Lord to help her parents make peace before the night was over. Her eyes flickered open and shut as she stared at the curtains for talons of movement, but after a while she was too exhausted to care, and sleep finally had her in his embrace.
She didn’t know exactly when she woke up, only that it was still too quiet in the house. She didn’t want to get out of her big warm wooden bed, but curiosity got the best of her, and she jumped from her bed to the door, best to avoid the ankle grabbers. She held in front of her body as a shield.
She opened the old door until just before its usual creak, and peered into the hallway. The kitchen light was still on at the far end of the hallway, but everything else was dark. There was a cold drought coming from somewhere. Mother must have forgotten to close all the windows after dinner. The clock on the wall struck four and made her jump back into the corner. At the fourth strike she dared move forward again. She slowly rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Blood dripped from the knitting needle onto the kitchen tiles. Her brother stood over their parents in his blue trucks and planes pajamas and only looked up when she moved forward into the room. He looked at her with big blue eyes and said, “They wouldn’t stop fighting. I couldn’t sleep. The Sandman won’t come if you’re not quiet.” He looked back down at the bodies and smiled, “Now they are quiet. See? I sent them to Neverland.”