Thursday 5 July 2012

#Once upon a time - Whispers In The Dark

Once upon a time .....

The bedroom of my younger childhood was an enchanting den.

It was a perfectly compact, rectangular box. Zeitgeisty wood chip lined the room from floor to ceiling. Half the wallpaper was overlaid in a dusky pink, the other, a biscuit cream. A white wardrobe, a white chest of drawers and my bed, swaddled in a fuchsia spread, co-existed in tight proximity.

This was the den where magic and invention happened. A cushion became a carriage. The bed became a space ship. An incisor placed under a bed time pillow became an object of alchemical wizardry; at night fall, just a plain discarded tooth but by sunrise, transformed into a cherished silver coin.

This was the bedroom where Santa quietly left a pillow case of surprises outside the door. Where I performed Cinderella, Rapunzel, The Sleeping Beauty. Where I learnt to read. Where I scribbled pictures and jumbled up letters in red, blue and green felt tip pen. Where I abandoned nappies in favour of a bright yellow potty. Where I thrilled in pulling open the windows of an advent calendar. Where I kept ladybirds in soggy matchboxes stuffed with damp lettuce. And where I made fetid perfumes from rose petals stifling in a bowl of water.

But at night my den became a place of shadows and unfamiliar sounds.

So Daddy, the sorcerer, routinely vanquished the horrors that lay in the darkness. With a flick of one hand, he ordered the cupboard drawers shut, with the flick of the other, he commanded the landing light flood through the open door onto the gloomy carpet of the bedroom floor.

But neither my father's reassuring measures or the closed curtains could protect me from the ominous flashes of an approaching storm. Even the cosseting layers of the heavy eiderdown, and the firmly tucked in sheets, failed to muffle the rumbling sound of one hundred wild horses galloping, unfaltering in their speed, towards me .....

A sudden burst of white light.

Counting to ten; "one, two, three ..."

BOOM.

The storm racing nearer, louder, towards me. I remember screaming for my parents. Then either Mummy or Daddy secured me in their arms until the tempest had subsided, and only distant thundery growls could be heard.


One dark night, past the witching hour, I heard voices. And this time, I was alone.

I awoke to the sound of whispering, the undecipherable, tangled words of people, adults, I'd never heard before. It definitely wasn't the tones of my mother, father or brother. They were all silently asleep. I couldn't see anything. No one was there. All that could be heard, was the unfamiliar whispers in the pitch black.

The hushed voices, like the pied piper, charmed my sleepy body from the warm safety of the bedsheets, and I followed the unintelligible babbling onto the landing. The whispering was befriended by rural sounds. Sheep. Cows. Pigs. I stood at the open doorway of the toilet peering blindly into the unilluminated void. Bleeting, moo'ing, clucking, discharged loudly from the toilet rim. I thought better than emptying my bladder. I turned, padding passed my parent's room. They were still asleep. Why weren't they stirred by the supernatural cacophony? The whispers continued to weave and dance around me like fallen leaves tossing in the wind, until I found sanctuary back in my bed. There I placed my hands over my ears to fend off the voices. Within minutes sleep had enveloped me ... and with that, the whispering, the farmyard noises, were gone.

The following morning I shared my nocturnal experience with my father. But he simply laughed then sung the nursery favourite, Old Macdonald Had A Farm. I attempted, again, this time more emphatically, to tell him about the whispering, the moo'ing and the bleeting. I dearly wanted him to believe me. Strangely, the voices and animal sounds hadn't frightened me. But not being affirmed by my parent seemed a far more scary prospect. Daddy began singing "and a moo moo here, and a moo moo there." I felt deflated. Why hadn't he believed me? At that moment, my Dad was no longer the protective hero but the villain who'd cast his five year old daughter, alone, into the night time world of ghosts, ghouls and monsters.

There is nothing more crushing or corrosive to a child's sense of self than not being believed.

In all likelihood I'd probably experienced what is known as a hypnopompic hallucination; a visual, tactile or auditory hallucination that occurs from sleep to wakefulness.

The whispers in the dark have since, never returned.

So once upon a time, what did you enjoy (or dislike) doing, seeing or creating? It could be anything. What were you like many moons ago? Do you have a once upon a time story to tell or picture to share? It could be a happy, sad or humorous tale. The skies the limit. So do link up below and grab the badge code ... and don't forget to tweet #onceuponatime. This is a monthly meme.

Once Upon A Time
Grab the badge code ...

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28 comments:

  1. What a fantastic read. This took me on a real trip down memory lane. I had completely forgotten ladybirds in matchboxes. I used to do that too. Yes to the rose petal perfumes too!

    Very glad that the whispers in the dark haven't returned.

    Am definitely going to link up this month x

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    1. Thank you very much. These posts take me a while to write! I'm glad the voices have gone too :o). Would be fab if you linked up! X

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  2. Fantastic piece of writing. LOVE how you have described your bedroom and your memories of time spent there at the beginning. Homemade perfume - ha ha!

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    1. Thank you FP. This one took over a day to write, and then I drive myself crazy perfectly words and sentences. The memories are still vivid!

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  3. Wow what an amazing piece. I love this x

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  4. such depth and detail!! enjoyed reading this :) glad they have not returned but scary for a young one to go through and not be believed! wish i could write like this! xx

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    1. Thank you .... Its one of those memories that always stay intact! ... Just for the record I spent a while writing this!

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  5. Gosh I got lost in that prose - so beautiful. Had no idea where it was leading - an important message - great stuff X

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    1. Thank you. I can still clearly remember how I felt when I wasn't believed!

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  6. Beautiful piece, very evocative - thanks for sharing, you write beautifully.

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  7. Another lovely post. I was terrified of the dark until i was about 15. I had a secret weapon to get the ghosts. . .my dog. He believed me!

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    1. Thank you. You can always rely on the pet dog to come to the rescue!

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  8. Ohh interesting, you have certainly made me think twice about making the truth more important than my childs feelings, thanks, Mich x

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    1. Thank you ... I guess its a balance ... now I am an adult, I can see it from my dad's point of view aswell ... that I was telling him a 'make believe' story, or so he thought. But having said that, its important to take your child's stories seriously no matter how fantastical they may seem.

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  9. Great write, very good reading!

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    1. Thank you! I've just been reading some of your poetry on your blog!

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  10. "There is nothing more crushing or corrosive to a child's sense of self than not being believed."

    The fact that this still resonates with you after all this time is testament to the truth in that statement. This is an excellent reminder to take every single concern of a child.... seriously.

    What a powerful post.

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    1. Thank you Misha. Its certainly one of my parenting truths. I think its very important to take their concerns seriously.

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  11. Great post, you described your childhood dreams and hallucinations so well! It really made me think about not belittling what my children say, things can seem so real and horrible in the dark of night. I remember feeling like this. I have linked up a post that I wrote earlier in the week cos it is about a childhood memory of mine.

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    1. Thank you, and for linking up! No matter how trivial it sounds, I think its important to take a childs concerns seriously.

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  12. What an amazing story and so beautifully told. I am amazed that you can remember so much detail but I suppose something so unusual will stay with you.
    Thank you for sharing x

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    1. Thank you. I think you are quite right, it was so strange that its unforgetable.

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  13. Wow - are you sure it wasn't something of a spookier nature? I would have been very scared for ages I think!

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    1. You never know. I have thought about that, and children can be very sensitive to other dimensions.

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  14. Hi! I'm here and I've linked up, even though it's a bit random, it's definitely about Once Upon a Time, as is pretty much everything I write.
    Nice to find your Linky. Good luck with it. Hoping to get some new faces joining in with my nostalgia Linky too, so feel free to send them my way!!!! :)

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    1. Wonderful - thank you! I will link up to yours too!

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