***I’ve had so much fun researching into mythical creatures and the fantastic amount that exist so thanks to SweetSchism for starting this! It was so much fun looking into all the different background, especially into the Gaelic legends which I’ve grown up with. I have chosen one maybe more familiar with others who no doubt spent their childhood with the same terrified view of the poor guy so without boring/annoying you any further I’ll get on with it ***
As the twilight settles around and the children start their bedtime routine, bathing and brushing their teeth, I begin to get ready. With a jolly smile on my face I get dressed with a little stretch and a yawn. I pull on my boots and I ready my bag and then it is time, time to go and see the children.
Mummy is finishing off the bedtime story in the first room I come to. It is one of my favourites so I wait a little while, listen as the little boy with brown curly hair joins in at the right bits. I want to stay and watch as his mummy tucks him in, kisses him on the head and whispers ‘I love you’ but there are other little children who need me so I sprinkle my dust and move on to the next house.
This house is home to a little girl. She is three and her mummy is just turning out the lights, leaving the little plug-in one on for the little girl to sleep, “Night, night, Mummy, I love you.” Night, night, Charlotte, I love you too.” Andclickthe light goes out and the door closes. There’s a whimper of the baby brother coming from downstairs, no doubt ready for a feed. Charlotte is looking up at her ceiling and looks a little frightened. She squeezes her eyes tight shut but I know she is wide awake. In her head I can hear her thoughts: if I pretend I am asleep he will think I am asleep and move on. The jolly smile I have on my face vanishes. It is upsetting to think that even though I only bring good dreams, some children are still scared of me. All the same I sprinkle my dust into Charlotte’s big brown eyes and move on as she falls into a happy sleep.
Some of the children I visit are happy, like the little boy in the first one; some of them have happy thoughts and don’t need much dust to fall asleep. Sometimes they are like Charlotte and need a little more to keep the nightmares aware. There are other children I wish I could become visible to, comfort them and hold them whilst the sleep. Sophie is one of those children.
I visit Sophie every night and the situation is always the same. First I will visit her two older brothers, David and James, both of whom are nine. Then I will visit her two little sisters, Kitty and Amber (who are four and three) and then baby Tommy. I visit Sophie last because her bed sits closest to the bedroom door and she can hear the arguments and the smashing of bottles and the slap she knows to hurt from her bed. I spend my time with Sophie, after I have sprinkled enough dust to give her dreamless sleep I will sit with her and send her soothing thoughts, wishing I could stop the hurt from the day and take away the pain from tomorrow.
I work until my bag is empty, children are all asleep up and down the country and there are little smiles on their faces. My work is done and I can go home with a jolly smile on my faces as all the children get a lovely night’s sleep ready for a new day full of new adventures. As the sun begins to rise I make myself some Yorkshire Tea and toast and curl up by the fire place and stifle a yawn. It will soon be my bedtime.
I curl up in my warm and cosy bed and as I nod off children up and down the country begin waking up to start a new day; the tell-tale ruminants of the Sandman’s dust in their eyes.