Mimi's Demons

Chapter 6: The Lion

Mimi's grandpa had taken a lot of time and care in teaching Mimi to take care of her things. Thus, Mimi was actually quite good at keeping her room picked up. Most importantly, she didn't keep any of her toys she believed had feelings on the floor when nighttime came around.

But, one lonely day of being the new girl at school found Mimi in bed, at night, with a beloved stuffed lion laying on its back on the floor. Her mother had all but dropped her in bed and left before Mimi could insist she pick up her lion for her. In her defense, her little brother, now a toddler, had been particularly screechy. It had been Mom's turn with him, not Tom's, and on those nights Mom wanted to give him a lot of attention, which Mimi understood. She really did.

Still, it did nothing to stop the cold cactus prickling at looking at her poor lion, within reach of the abyss beneath her bed.

She debated for a moment. It didn't take long. She'd never actually seen the devils do anything bad. They only looked scary, sometimes made her sick, and sometimes smacked their mouths in the air above people like they were eating something. Oh, and if she lied they'd come out of hiding to laugh at her. Lying made them happy. But she'd yet to see them actually break anything. And it was people they hurt, not innocent toys, right?

She wish her toys would just let her see them alive and talk like they did in Toy Story so she could ask if they saw the monsters too.

But no one saw the monsters. Just Mimi. Mimi was apparently sick in the head and that was why.

Mimi felt a sudden rush of anger at her lion. It had never done anything to help her, even though she always treated it so nice, she even brushed its fur. Why was she here worrying about it and thinking about risking getting her ankles grabbed just to get it?

So she turned over and buried her face in her pillow.

Not long later, something soft touched her neck.

She jolted upright, barely muffling her squeal of fright in time (Mom was a light sleeper, Mom didn't like ANY noise).

The lion sat by her pillow, its black beady eyes reflecting the little light that made it around her paisley curtains.

Her heart sounded loud in her ears.

Her first urge was to hug her lion and pet its fur, but then she remembered how it had betrayed her and knocked it off again. She flipped back onto her side, heart still loud and something like that bubbling feeling as she waited to wake up for Christmas popped in her chest.

She heard the softest of thumps and looked back to see her lion again, this time right up against her back.

Curious now, she leaned over the side of the bed and gently put her lion next to the darkness before huddling to watch, waiting. She had to be sure it wasn't her lion moving by itself.

Nothing happened. The lion just crouched there, untouched.

She remembered the demons always knew when she was looking at them and curled back on the bed, only for her lion to land in front of her face, having been tossed. There was no way her lion could jump like that while keeping its pose.

The bubbling-Christmas feeling intensified and she giggled.

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Three loads of dishes today, dude. Three. And you won't give me a like or comment, how mean...How's my emotional manipulation? My husband says I'm crap at it. That's probably a good thing.