When Clara went to sleep that night, she saw it. No one had seen it before, but she did. What made Clara special? Why did she remember, while the rest of us forget? Why? Perhaps we’ll never know. Maybe it’s not for us to know… All we do know is what it looks like.It was the time right before you fall asleep. You know the time I mean. Where you’ve only just presented your head to your pillow after setting the next days alarm. Those precious moments where all the little things you worry about become ill defined and float away like the smoke from the end of a cigarette. When the white noise becomes deafeningly soothing, and your memories of the day become rewritten into dreams. Sometimes for an instant, you think you’re going to fall for no reason and are jolted awake. That was the time, and Clara thought she was going to fall.
That’s when she saw it. Next to her newly opened bedroom door. She said at first, it looked like a dog. A little, skinny dog walking on its hind legs, as if it were begging for a treat. It was different though… not quite a dog. It did not sway. Did not struggle for balance. No tail. It’s arms hung down straight at its side. Clara closed her eyes tight, hoping to cull the waking dream and re-emerge with the dog gone. She couldn’t hear any steps. After all, dogs have nails that ‘clack’ on hardwood. She waited. It had looked so damn real. Just standing there. Motionless but for it’ s shallow breaths. Seconds were like deep red scratches screaming down her back lasting hour after awful hour. Colors swirled in her vision and her cheek muscles cramped, but her eyes could not be tight enough. Maintaining her self-inflicted blindness, Clara wrapped her fingers tightly around the top edge of her comforter, and began to drag it upwards towards her neck. All she needed was the safe force field of the blanket, and she’d be right as rain, and able to ride out the night. The sound of the blanket rubbing against her mattress and pajamas may as well have been a car alarm. She froze. It must have heard that... If it was real…
Was she just being ridiculous? It was obviously a dream, right? A little dog standing in her room? Of course it was a dream! What a question! Her eyes relaxed, and her grip on the covers became far less dire. We’ve all been tired and seen things, right? She’d had cajun for dinner. Spicy food… It was definitely in her head. She opened her tired eyes. It would be some time before they closed again.
It sat there on her footboard, it’s back straight, it’s legs bent at 90 degrees, and it’s fingers intertwined in it’s lap.
The tiny grey fingers were the first thing that Clara saw. Her teeth clenched hard enough to make her ears ring as she watched the tiny digits unfurl slowly, while it’s tiny, human-like foot tapped in time on the mattress. Her clenched fists were sticky with blood where her nails had broken the skin of her palms. Nails driven deeper and deeper each time the little grey foot came down. It’s left hand began to rise, and her eyes followed. Past it’s concave stomach, and the chest with the jutting ribs. So pronounced. It really did look like a dog… Until it’s hand reached it’s face. Nothing. Eyes? Nose? Ears? All were absent from it’s grey, hairless skull. Just a mouth. A sliver of a mouth with one tiny finger to it.
“Shhhhhhh……..”
Clara stared at it, horrified, as it placed it’s hand back into it’s lap. It faced her, staring with an eyeless face. Utterly motionless. She could make it. Throw the blanket over that ‘thing’, trap it, and make it to the door! This could work! She braced herself… It’s head cocked to the side. Did it know? Now or never.
She didn’t even see it move. Her eyes that had been open and unblinking the entire time the beast had been here, and she missed it. She felt it first. Felt it’s little cold hand placed on her mouth. She was frozen. A metallic taste filled her mouth, as her clenched teeth and gums began to give way to the ridiculous strain. It smelled like an old library. The other hand was on her lips now as well, slowly peeling them back to reveal her freshly brushed pearly whites. It used it’s grey fingers to pry her teeth apart, and although she tried to force them closed, the hinges were oiled by the creatures will. It paused, it’s head sideways again. Clara’s eyes darted around the room frantically as she felt it’s tiny fingers touch each tooth one by one; and saw the creature glance over to her nightstand. Her charging phone, a picture of her late mother, and the clock radio… which began to play music. She recognized it as a song she’d heard a thousand times. One of those radio hits that the stations play to death… But it was wrong. Slow. Slower than any song should be. If you almost stop a record, the songs all sound like growling. Why was it doing this to her?
“Because these teeth don’t fit.”
It sounded like the creak of a very old door. Clara screamed out, and the radio got louder to match her. This couldn’t be happening. Someone needed to give her a pinch and free her from this nightmare... She never got her pinch. She got a yank. A molar at first, and then 4 more followed. A canine, 2 wisdom, and the bottom front one on the left. All plucked from her mouth, while the radio drowned her wailing in a low-tempo. It placed the teeth in a straight, organized line next to her head, while bobbing to a slowed beat. Once it finished the arrangement, it stood on Clara’s chest and faced her with it’s mouth slit leading the absence of a face. The music stopped, and the creature turned and walked the length of her body with a slow, almost professional stride. The grace of a ballerina, or a dancer or something.
Once back at the foot board, it reached down to pick up a tiny bag that Clara had failed to notice before. Dark brown leather with a face painted on the side in white, the creature reached it’s little hand inside and began to liberate the little white objects inside.
“Now these…” It creaked as it held one up, as if to examine it, “Should feel much better.”
One by one, it placed the new and foreign teeth into the vacant slots in Clara’s gums; taking the time to wiggle each one individually until it was finally secured in place. Finally, it sat back onto her upper chest. Posture completely perfect, legs crossed, and it’s face mere centimeters from her own.
“Would you like to sing a song with me?” it cooed. Clara closed her mouth ans vigorously shook her head. It slouched, “They never want to sing with me.”
It leaned forward and placed it’s little hands over her eyes. A scream began to escape her throat, but before it could penetrate the open air, Clara found herself exhausted… struggling to stay awake… Had she set her alarm for morning? So frightened before, and now… didn’t seem to matter. She heard it pick up the teeth one by one from their neat little row, and heard them clack together upon entering their new leather home. The tiny, nearly human feet depressed the covers around her as it casually made it’s way off of her bed and to the door of her bedroom. The various sounds it was making sounded like movements in another apartment… so far away from Clara. Sleep was taking her away. It felt good. Like she hadn’t slept in days. In the final moment before she slipped away, she heard the creature’s voice once final time,
“Those should fit better.” It took several tiny, grey steps into the hall, “Your Mother would want you to have them. She didn’t sing either.”
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