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Christmas Eve 1999

My eyes open,
but I can't move.
The nightmare hasn't yet faded
and the fear is still pumping through me.
It is Christmas Eve
and I'm a small, scared boy,
lying on his back in bed.
My door opens,
but my night time visitor brings no presents.
It is a skeleton,
creeping towards me.
Moving slowly, to toy with me.
It exudes ominous intent.
I can hear its joints grinding,
a tense, crunching rising. 
The anger in its empty eye sockets
pierces me,
and suddenly I can move.
I flip over,
and hide under my duvet,
and cry.
I listen to my breathing slow,
until sleep slowly returns
and the nightmares merge. 
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