Inspired by my last entry. This is one of the things that happened in Raccoon’s old house.
Raccoon stirred awake. His eyes opened halfway, looked out the open window and saw the moon was still high and bright. A small yawn escaped as he rolled over to face the wall. He lifted one leg into the air and then brought it down, trapping the blanket between his bony knees.
A faint tingle skipped up his spine. His heavy eyelids pulled apart. The moonlight slashed in through the window, illuminating the wall. The wallpaper looked different. Instead of scenes of cowboys riding bucking broncos or herding cattle or drawing their revolvers,scales like a crocodile’s belly bubbled up. Raccoon continue staring, convinced it was a trick of the light or the sleep in his eyes, or both.
The scales moved, changed into a thousand blinking eyes. Some were from people, cats, fish snakes, bugs and some were eyes Raccoon have never seen. They stared at him. One would blink and then the next and the next until it was like a wave rippled and rolled across the wall.
Raccoon tried to get up, but his blankets were twisted around him and he couldn’t kick free. Panic inflated his tongue and collapsed his throat so he couldn’t scream. The eyes opened and closed and pleaded with him to come closer, just a little closer.
He thrashed and rolled and eventually fell off the bed.
His mother came running in, and turn on the light, and the eyes scrambled away like cockroaches. She unravelled the blankets from his legs, arms and neck and quieted him as he cried. Raccoon leaned against her chest and wanted to believe her when she said it was only a bad dream, but when he looked up over her shoulder, one eye returned and winked at him.