Banshee I

Tara is five.
Her eyes are very large.
They've seen many things in those five quick years.
They take in the details and do not release thoughts.
She clings to them as she clings to her furry, musty smelling stuffed bunny in the dark chill of the night.
In the morning, Momma asks "How did you sleep honey?"
Tara has learned that the proper answer is "fine."
She scares momma if she tries to tell her about the scritchy scratchy sounds that start after the clock strikes "elevensies and a half".

Momma looks at her funny if Tara tries to tell her about the little red glowing dots of light that skitter this way and that two by two across her bare wood floor.
Momma says "Sounds like you had a bad dream."
"But Momma, that's not it..."
" Oh honey...."

Tara has learned that Momma doesn't believe her, so she doesnt' try to tell her anymore.
The red dots, the eyes that see in the dark, the red dots that illuminate sharp white teeth that malevolently smile at the tear-filled terror stricken eyes that Tara cannot force to close.
"They" jump onto the foot of her bed and cackle and bounce and scratch at the comforter.
Her tummy goes all pins and needles and ice cubes. A hundred centipedes race up and down her spine. The goose flesh between her shoulder blades presses inward and causes her breaths to come in faster and shorter. She wants to scream but her throat won't obey. She wants to turn on the lamp by her bed to chase them away, but the switch doesn't work.

She pulls her feet up and presses her back to the headboard. Her knees are against her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them, her head tucked down, her eyes on the unholy gathering.

Darkness is their home.
They will not go.
They delight in her terror.
They drink it in like wine at this black feast.

The leaping and the screeching and the jumping stops and they join hands in a circle at the foot of her bed, staring over their shoulders deep into her large eyes.
Their gnarled, red, hairy hands with yellowed nails unclasp and clap a tattoo in time with the regulator of the old-fashioned "wind up" clock on her dresser.
The red dots of light go out as their eyes close in an ecstasy of the moment.
Their faces are uplifted.
A low humming from their throats fills the room .
And suddenly, Tara sees her.