Hers

Short Story by AUBREY PERRY: 1st Line by Judy Kleppe

She wished she could sleep. It was late. She was tired. But the weight of the girl was smothering. Not quite crushing her but there was no way she could fall asleep under it. Not squashed down under the covers like that, wedged into the curve of the sleeping girl’s stomach. She could barely breathe. Only her nose poked out over the sheets.

This is the way it was though, the way it had always been. The purpose of Daisy, and all like her: to be loved. Any way the child wanted to love her. For some children, it was a teddy-bear, or a kitty-cat, maybe a floppy dog. In this case, Daisy was a lamb. A lamb puppet. A lamb puppet with red-mitten hands, a red felt tongue and big black eye lashes, and the girl loved her, adored her, wouldn’t sleep a night without her.  So many nights now, years, Daisy had spent with the girl, under the covers, making forts in the closet, playing dress up, but most importantly, soaking up the tears of scrapes and scratches, punishments and anger, that Daisy was worn raw in places, the knit of her stitching barely holding together, no longer white no matter how many times the girl’s mother threw her in with the wash.

Daisy wore this proudly. It was proof of a job well done. Evidence of the girl’s love for her. Some of the other stuffed animals and toys in the cupboard were jealous of her for this, but she paid them no mind. She loved the girl; she must. She knew, no matter what her purpose was, the willingness to sacrifice yourself for someone else came from more than a sense of duty.

And so it was with love that Daisy fulfilled her purpose. To protect the girl. To watch over her dreams. To keep away the shadows.

But lately, Daisy thought, the shadows were changing. They seemed to stretch, to grow and spread from the corners, creep closer and closer to the bed as the hours of the night passed on. It made Daisy anxious. She’d been feeling anxious more and more lately. She saw the girl less and less. The girl was twelve years old now, busy with after school sports and friends and the beginning of everything beyond childhood.  Still the girl reached for Daisy at night, snuggled down against her. “You smell like me,” the girl would say, and take a big sniff of Daisy.

The girl didn’t talk to Daisy like she used to. It was fine. Daisy didn’t mind. She was happy to just see the girl as she came and went, content to pass the day snoozing among the other stuffed animals, knowing that at night the girl would want her near. Need her.

Sometimes Daisy would fall out of bed, unbeknownst to the girl. The girl was so big now, she might toss in the night and Daisy would tumble to the floor. There was usually something on the floor that Daisy would land near for warmth, but those nights gave her chills as she stared into the vast blackness of under the bed.

There had been more of those nights lately, too. Daisy didn’t like to think of them and the thoughts that crept into her head as she’d stare, paralyzed by puppet-hood, into that depthless dark. She tried not to think of it now, not now while she was warm and safe, though slightly smothered, next to the girl. But the thoughts came anyway. They’d grown more relentless over the last few days. And there was the sound, too. Daisy had tried to tell herself she’d been imagining it, but it was there, wasn’t it? A scratching, a digging maybe? From under the bed? Something trying to come up, to get in. And a smell. It was growing stronger with the shadows. What was it? Dirt?

Had the girl tracked it in?

But before Daisy could imagine all the possibilities of where and when the girl might’ve gotten dirty that day, the girl took a deep sigh and stretched in her sleep, and Daisy knew what came next: the girl turned, pulled the blankets with her, and Daisy found herself on the floor, her head on a crumpled sock.

And once again.

There it was.

Under the Bed. Gaping at her.

Daisy knew the general things that could be found under there: the contraband candy wrappers, notes passed at school, the random hairband. But all of that was swallowed up by the black now, and suddenly, something far more sinister loomed under there. Something, for some reason, Daisy had a sense had been coming.

“It’s time, Daisy,” a voice growled at her from the dark.

So surprised it knew her name, Daisy could barely ask, “Time for what?”

“Don’t make things difficult, my dear.”

Daisy mentally pleaded with the little girl, “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

“It’s no use, Daisy,” the voice breathed, reading Daisy’s mind. “She can’t hear you. Not anymore. That’s why I’ve come. It’s time.”

As it spoke, luminescent yellow eyes emerged from the darkness, a sliver of a pupil in each. And that smell of dirt.

“You leave her alone!”

It chuckled.

“I’m not here for her,” the voice said, and then a smile shined through in the dark. A snout of sorts, a dark, wet nose, and a sneer of sharp teeth, long canines gleaming. The face pushed forward toward Daisy.

“I’m here for you!”

“Me?” Daisy said.

“Come now, Daisy. I’ve come to collect you. Your work here is done. Well, almost”

“Almost?”

“Well, yes. You die for her, and then you’re done. Literally,” it said, and chuckled again.

“I don’t understand,” Daisy said, but something in her did; it always had.

“That’s the way this works, dear. You must know that. You can come willingly, or not. Personally, I prefer not because then I get to take you both,” and the smile widened in the dark.

“Take me? Take me where?” but Daisy felt she knew.

“To be … reincarnated, you could say. She’s outgrown you, Daisy. She doesn’t need you anymore. Come with me. You can start again with another child. That’s the way this works. You’ll see.”

“But I’m hers!” Daisy said.

“You were, or rather, the puppet was, but your soul doesn’t belong to her, or to you, my sweet little lamb; it’s a servant, of sorts, and is being assigned to a new job. Think of it like that. You can come with me now, as most lost children’s toys do, and you’ll be placed in another body without feeling a thing. You’ll wake up full of fresh stuffing and clean threads, in a new toy chest in a new family’s home tomorrow! Or, and I much prefer this way, you resist, and I get to disembody your soul myself! And the girl is dessert!”

Daisy gasped.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. Not if you cooperate,” the voice said.

“But, but what if I don’t?” Daisy dared.

“I’m so glad you asked,” the creature said and reached a long paw with black, thick claws out from the under the bed. The girl’s arm dangled down leaving a delicate white forearm to catch the moonlight. The creature drew a razor-sharp claw along the inside of the girl’s arm. A dark red line of blood followed behind it. The girl moaned but did not stir. Before Daisy could protest, the creature slithered its snake-like tongue out between its teeth and licked the trickle of blood from the girl’s arm.  “Oh yesssssss,” the creature hissed. “She’s ripe, isn’t she? I’d love to have the rest!” and the creature’s eyes flashed.

“No!” Daisy screamed.

No.

The child must live.

What a failure Daisy would be otherwise. Besides, what was left for Daisy after the girl was grown?

Daisy knew. Had always known. There was no fighting it.

She wished she could snuggle into the girl once more, feel the girl’s breath on her neck, the girl’s arms around her, say goodbye, good night one last time. But time was up.

“I’m ready,” Daisy said, lying flat on the floorboards, no way of resisting what was to come.

The creature reached for her, wrapped its claws around her arm and pulled her toward the darkness.

“Mmm,” it breathed in Daisy’s ear, “You do smell like her.”