Nightmares - Part 2

Hardy awoke because of the demands of his full bladder. That was the only reason he ever awoke prematurely. Even when the alarm sounded in the night, signifying Snatchers and Grabbers in close proximity, his roommate, Flipcoin, would try to rouse him with gentle shaking, but within a few seconds he would tier of that and slap him hard around the face and poke a podgy finger in his bellybutton. For some obscure reason, this seemed to trick Hardy’s body into believing urination was imminent, thus waking him from his slumber. How Flipcoin knew to poke his bellybutton, or why he still continued to abuse his cheek, Hardy didn’t know or really care; as long as Flipcoin woke him up in time.

 

However, tonight, the feeling was genuine so Hardy rose from the warm depths of his covers and shuffled out onto and along the corridor separating the males’ rooms from the females’ rooms. As he slowly made his way to the drop off point, he passed Lume, her luminescent eyes glowing and her footfalls as soundless as a cat’s.

 

“Bit early for you to be up, ain’t it?” She chimed, “Full bladder?”

 

He nodded drearily, “Bit early for you to go to bed,” he countered, to which she shrugged.

 

“I’m sleepy, but Vampire’s still up to make sure the little beasties get tucked in before the sun comes up and you day dwellers come out to play,” and with a wink she turned to her room and shut him out.

Knowing that soon the ‘little beasties’ would be curling up next to her, made Hardy smile; it reminded him of better times. No one here got a room to themselves and lucky Lume got three nocturnally bouncy girls, who, for all intense and purposes, were her children, to keep her warm and safe. Vampire got three boisterous boys and the equally lively Schwi, who, for all intense and purposes, was a five-year-old, literally, bless his cotton (and slightly mouldy) socks.

 

While reminiscing old memories of safety, Hardy managed to break out of his dopey daze and the regular sounds of the cave system at night actually made an impression on his brain; the Nightwakers’ games and the early morning workers, the muffled snores and where would the Hideout be without the shrieks of nightmares in the darkness. It was not unusual to hear a child’s precious pleads for their parents, who couldn’t come to console them, or heartbroken sobs, soon hidden before the morn comes, or the anxious pacing inside a room, reflecting an agitated mind, too afraid of sleep to relax. Yes, these were the sounds of the night-time for Hardy and by now he was bursting for a pee, but something made him halt just before the toilet. Something unexpected; someone was crying. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the crying that was unexpected, but more the place  the sound was originating from:

 

Pages and Cocoa’s room.

 

It was the last in the line of the carved out sleeping areas and the last place Hardy would expect crying. Cocoa was only ever sad on one day of the year and Pages, sure she was moody, but crying seemed a little too... pathetic for her. Maybe it was one of the nursery children Cocoa looked after. That seemed the most likely reason and the softness in the reassuring voice was undoubtedly Cocoa’s and Pages was probably just ignoring it all.

 

“Shh, hush now,” she whispered, “They’re gone but I’m here and if you don’t stop teardropping you’ll make me itchy.” Yes, that was definitely Cocoa and little by little the moaning calmed and there was silence from the room.

 

Nothing else interesting made itself known to Hardy so he decided it was probably best to empty his load in the designated area rather than here; not only would he have the cleaning group’s revenge but he was sure Pages would ensure, one way or another, he would never urinate outside her room again. He would ask them tomorrow about who was crying.