Mike

Mike a Fairy Tale

Lightning strikes the house interrupting Mikes dream,

Turning his room dark, when his night light should be bright green

Now it might seem unlike dreams to wait for bright things,

To wake up little kids, like Mike when he might scream.

But for Mike it was exciting to be a Knight in the night scene.

He grabs his flash light sword, ready to attack with the light beam.

 

Set to protect his mother and brother. He leapt to the floor.

No light in the whole house not even under his door.

No monsters under the bed they know not to hide under there anymore.

Dressed like a ninja in the black underwear that he wore, and more scared than before, he opened the door to a grand corridor, and bore head first into war.

He tip-toed, sneaked and snuck past the creaks and cracks,

He kept his feet relaxed, and slid past the dark blues and blacks.

He swept across the kitchen floor in his black socks, and double checked all the best hide and seek spots.

The wind tore through the tree tops disguising Mike’s footsteps on the wooden floor’s weak spots.

 

His heart was pounding in his chest, he feared he might need a replacement.

His fears were confirmed when he peered into his mother’s basement.

 

He knew what he was there for, the fuse box was at the bottom.

This is what he had prepared for, flip the switch, that’s what his Dad had taught him.

He took the stairs one step at a time, a game of chicken with the darkness.

Until a CRASH! From outside made him drop his sword on the carpet.

It rolled down the stairs and cracked on the cement floor’s hardness.

 

Mark one down for darkness.

 

Now Mike could barely breathe, he was way too scared to scream.

This adventure had become a nightmare, now he wished it was a dream.

And then it got so much colder than the night air had made it seem.

He felt a hand upon his shoulder, he knew who it would be.

There was no one there. It takes a child’s eyes to see what Mike could see.

 

Mike inched forward down the stairs to where his light had died.

He opened up the fuse box, but couldn’t read the guide inside.

“Which switch do I flip?” he cried, reaching and straining his tired eyes wide.

His mind said “RUN the wire’s fried”.

“Crash!”

He ran until he reached his door, but then he had to stop.

He saw inside his mother’s room. Her clock blinked 12 o’clock.

And the light upon his floor, was green where before it was not.

Safe inside his room, he slept all night and never tossed.

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