There were many reasons why Tommy didn’t want to move house, but the main one was the creature under his bed. On the last night at the old house, he announced he was going to bed immediately after dinner. His parents exchanged a look as he left the table, and before he closed the bedroom door he heard them whispering to each other. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but caught the word sulking. He rolled his eyes. Let them think he was sulking if they wanted to. After all, they couldn’t know that he was going to bed early to spend as much time as possible with Grumf on their last night together, and he would certainly be doing plenty of sulking over the next few weeks.

As soon as he turned off the light, he could hear Grumf sniffling.
“I don’t want you to leave.” Grumf’s voice was as faint as a whisper. The curtains were closed, but it wasn’t quite dark enough yet for him to be completely there.
“I don’t want to leave either. I tried my best to get Mum and Dad to change their minds. I don’t see why Dad had to get a new job – he already had a job.”

Tommy had used every argument he could think of: no longer being able to play with his friend Eric who lived across the road, there was no tree in the new garden for a treehouse, and the new neighbours had a vicious looking cat who would no doubt terrorise his tabby. It seemed none of these were a match for the fact that Dad’s new job was a hundred miles away.

“I wish we could take you with us,” Tommy said.
“I know. It’s so unfair that we Shadowthings can only ever exist in the place where we came into being.”

Tommy remembered when Grumf had first appeared, a little over three years ago. It had been on the night of his fifth birthday. After much pleading, his parents had let him take his new kitten to bed with him. He had lain in the dark thinking how nice it was to have a purring kitten next to him, gently pushing at his shoulder with its paws. Then he’d heard the sound of giggling coming from under the bed. He should have been scared, but the kitten had started purring even louder and that had made him feel he was safe. After Grumf started speaking to him, he had known he had never been in any danger; Grumf had a very gentle and friendly voice.

They had become great friends right from the start. Tommy’s parents would brag to their friends that he never grumbled when told it was time for bed, but of course Grumf was the reason for this. When the family was away on holiday they both missed each other terribly. But at least they could always look forward to meeting again when Tommy came home, whereas this time it was goodbye for good. Tommy started sniffling. It wasn’t like he could come back and visit Grumf, or even send him a postcard. It upset him further to think that he had never seen what Grumf looked like. He felt jealous of his cat – cats could see in the dark, his father had told him.

Tommy woke the next day with eyes sore from crying and a big lump in his throat. He couldn’t remember falling asleep – he hoped he had managed to say goodbye to Grumf properly. He spent the day keeping out of the way of big men moving furniture around, until it was time to go. By the early evening the movers had left, and as the family sat down to eat takeaway pizza he voiced his displeasure at all manner of things about the new house. His bedroom was a stupid shape, the kitchen smelled funny, the garden had too many silly flowers in it, and the neighbours’ enormous cat had been glaring at Felix through the patio doors. He hadn’t realised he’d been almost shouting until his father raised his own voice.

“That’s enough! You’re far too old to be throwing a tantrum like this. Off to bed with you!”
“But it’s not f-”
“Now.”

He sat on his bed cuddling Felix and thinking about was how unfair it all was. He cried and cried, and eventually felt tired enough to go to sleep. As he switched off the light, he saw it wasn’t quite fully dark yet. If he had been in his old room, Grumf would have started whispering to him by now. He sniffled at the thought, then stopped as he realised his sniffling was not the only sound he could hear. Felix was clawing at the door and hissing. He let the cat out, and lay on his back in bed, looking at the ceiling. Felix had deserted him too – this house was just all wrong. Even the low sound coming from under the bed was wrong.

He sat up, startled. There couldn’t be any noise coming from under the bed – could there? He sat as still as possible and even held his breath so he could hear better. No, there was definitely a sound there. His heart leapt – maybe Grumf had found a way to follow him after all! The thought left him almost as soon as it had arrived. This was not the sweet sound of Grumf’s giggles. This sound was more like…a growl. Tommy stiffened. As the room got darker and the growl became louder and closer, he knew exactly what he had to do. He hit the light switch as quick as he could. Light filled the room and the growling stopped. His heart beating fast, Tommy hoped that just because he was too old for tantrums didn’t mean he was too old to ask for a night light.

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Tags: Flash Fiction, fridayflash, Horror, Monster under the bed, Writing

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