“Monkey! Stop eating the Crayons!” I scolded him as he popped the red stick of wax into his mouth. Monkey was Mason’s nickname because he was always climbing around everything.
“But Tigger!” Mason whined, his mouth exploding with the red color of the Crayon. Tigger was what he called me because he couldn’t pronounce his L yet. And he really liked Whinny the Pooh.
“Don’t but Tigger me, mister. You could choke.” I said, squatting down to where he was sitting on the carpeted floor. I cupped my hand underneath of his chin. “Spit it out.”
He reluctantly spit out the bits of chewed up Crayon into my hand and then I emptied it out into the trash can. When I turned back around to face him, he was off, running down the hallway.
I chuckled. “Where are you going?” I asked, following him into his room.
He held up a wad of blankets from his bed. “Build a fort.” He said sweetly.
I sighed. “How big?”
“This big!” He shrieked, reaching his hands above his head and then jumping up and down, trying to get as much height as he could.
I chuckled. “That big?!”
He nodded excitedly. “Can we do it?! Please, Tigger!”
I smiled, I was actually really excited to build this fort. I’m a secret lover of forts but I used Mason as an excuse to build them all of the time. “I don’t know, Mason. How much do you love me?” I asked.
He grinned before latching himself onto my right leg in a huge hug. “I love you so so so much! You’re the best big sister ever!”
I smiled then kissed the top of his head. “I love you too, Monkey.”
We walked into the living room, blankets in hand before ripping apart the couch. I did most of the work, but honestly, I didn’t care because it was enough to see the excited smile on his face.
Right before we put the blankets on the top for the roof, the doorbell rang.
“I have to get the door.” I said to Mason.
“What about the top?!” He whined.
I smiled at his adorableness. “I’ll put the top on right after I answer the door. It’s probably just Andrew.” I said, moving towards the door before swinging it open.
When my eyes fluttered open, pain shot through my head. I let out a groan and brought a hand up to where my head hurt but my hand came in contact with an ice pack so I dropped my hand to my side after wiping the tears away from my face. At least it wasn’t a nightmare. I told myself. It didn’t get that far.
I was in my bed. Well, the Macy’s bed, and I was under the covers, the lighting in the room was dim because the sun was just starting to set. I looked around but I couldn’t see Dyson anywhere. I hope he was making dinner, I was starving.
“Dyson?” I croaked, but there was no answer.
I was about to search for my walky talkie when I found a sticky note stuck to the top of my shirt. I grabbed it then raised it to my eye- level so that I could read it.
Don’t get up, I’ll be there soon. Pizza Rolls for dinner. –Your lover, Dyson
I sighed then relaxed back into the pillows, trying to ease the growing headache I had. I closed my eyes again and hoped that I could go back to sleep but quickly killed that idea when I remembered that I haven’t had my sleeping pills. And if I went back to sleep, I’d continue where my last dream left off. And that couldn’t happen.
YOU ARE READING
Had to be Dyson
Teen Fiction"It had to be Dyson who was working the late shift at the Subway in the mall's food court with me during the storm. It had to be Dyson that was locked in the closet with me when everybody evacuated the mall. So now it's Dyson who is trapped inside o...
