It wasn't until later in the middle of the night, I found myself waking up from a bad dream, in my bedroom. I was sleeping next to my husband, Russell, who had his back turned against me on his side of the bed. And he was snoring loudly; he didn't give me the chance to wake up.
So, I grabbed my feathery, white pillow from behind my head. Took and gripped hold of the pillow in my grasp. Then, I started to smoother Russell's face with the feathery pillow. Trying to get my husband to wake up, he started screaming and flaying his arms wildly around me.
"Help! Stop this!" I heard Russell murmur loudly, in a muffled voice. I carefully lifted the white, fluffy pillow off Russell's smothered face. Russell turned over to my side and sat up madly in our bed. "Honey! What is the meaning of this?" He cried, sitting up on his side of the bed.
I playfully shoved my feathery white pillow at my husband's stomach with a noisy grunt in reply. "If you must know, darling," I began, sitting upright next to him, and folding my arms across my chest. I betted my eyes angrily at Russell. "Our children never came home from the arcade at the shopping mall, last night!" I said, angrily shoving my white, fluffy pillow against the side of my husband's chest. Taking his breath away.
Russell quickly snatched the feathery white pillow out of my grasp. He tossed it on the other side of the floor in our bedroom. "I'm sure they're with their school friends. You know how much they like to hang out on the weekends," Russell said.
I nodded and sighed. "Sorry I got physical," I apologized, hugging and kissing Russell on his bald forehead. "I shouldn't have to worry about them, staying out at odd hours in the night," I said, trying to feel better. "I'll give them until four in the morning to show up. If they don't return home by six a.m., I will have no choice but to call the police on them. To look for them," I said, as I got out of our large waterbed.
I walked over to my dressing room mirror in the bedroom, next to our bed. I grabbed a little brown brush, and started brushing my long, golden stringy hair in the dressing room mirror. Suddenly, there was a pounding knock on our bedroom door.
Jumping and gasping with fright, I put down my brown brush on the table of my dressing room mirror. Russell got out of bed quickly. We hurried over to the bedroom door. Still, hearing the sound of knocking rapidly in our bedroom, didn't make us feel comfortable about answering the bedroom door, without protecting ourselves, first.
Grabbing a baseball bat, standing up aside the bedroom wall, Russell told me to cautiously open the bedroom door for our guests. Unlocking the bedroom door carefully, I swung open the bedroom door. As Russell stepped in front of me and held the baseball bat swinging in the air, wildly.
Hearing the cries of little children, trying to shield themselves from being hit by Russell's basement, I quickly snatched it out of Russell's reach. "It's the children, Russell!" I yelled, pointing out the obvious fact.
Mark and Valentino both stopped screaming and had their hands shielding at their faces to block my husband's attack with the baseball bat. "Mom! Dad!" Mark and Valentino both yelled together.
I gave Russell a dirty look. Then, I quickly hugged both of our scared and worried little boys. "Tell us everything that's happened to you kids," I said, trying to keep our children calm and relaxed. They were both sweating and didn't stop looking at us with fear in their eyes.
"The darkness wants us dead, Mom and Dad!" Mark and Valentino both started talking again at once. They were shaking and trembling with fear. Wrapping them in my pajama robe, I tried to get them to be brave.
"What are you talking about, kids?" Russell asked, angrily pacing back and forth in our bedroom. "I'm sure you just had a bad dream experience together, or something," Russell said, trying to explain.
I tried my best to comfort our frightened two young boys, from fidgeting with fear. "Do you remember anything I taught you two kids, on how to fight the darkness?" I asked them both, not taking my eyes off them.
They were still shaking like a leaf. "We don't have much time left to live, Mom," Mark said, finding his voice. "The darkness doesn't want kids to be alive," Mark continued. "Take us to the church on Sunday morning, okay, Mom and Dad? There, the preacher can cast out the darkness from ever coming back to haunt our lives," Mark said.
This was going to be harder than I thought.