The overhead light clicked off with a sharp snap. Leo's feet hit the floor and he scrambled backward, then hauled his blue blanket all the way over his head until only his toes peeked out.
He pressed himself flat against the mattress. Every creak in the house sounded like a footstep. His blanket felt too small, even though the room was big and empty.
Leo peeked one eye out from under his blanket. The wall in front of him was covered in shifting shapes — crouching creatures with pointy ears staring back at him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and yanked the blanket up to his nose. Something cool and silver slid across his arm. He froze.
Leo slowly lowered his blanket and sat up. He reached his hand out toward the silver light on his quilt. The shapes on the wall began to dance.
He slipped back under the covers and tucked his hands neatly under his chin. The silver patterns traced lazy circles across the wall. His breathing got softer with every passing minute.
Three in the morning. Leo needed the bathroom. He didn't reach for the switch — he walked through the silver-painted hallway.
The shapes on the walls danced past him — pointy ears and crouching silhouettes now swirling like a quiet ocean. Leo kept walking.
He didn't feel scared at all. The house creaked. He just kept walking, guided by the silver.
Leo made it back to his room. He climbed under his blue blanket, looked at the silver shapes still dancing on his wall, and smiled.
