Knights Against the Night Part 16

Nightmares stalked Freddie’s night. Bolt heard them pacing outside the duvet, Freddie whimpering in his sleep.

When tomorrow came, as it always did, Bolt felt relief.

No attack.

Freddie dragged his way through getting ready, and for a moment Bolt thought he would be going to school with him.

“Honey, why don’t you put Bunny away, you can’t take him to school with you.”

Freddie whimpered, clung tighter to Bolt, squeezing the air out of the small bear.

“Come on Darling,” His mother knelt down before him, hand out streched.

Freddie sniffled. The reluctantly handed the bear over, giving him a mournful look.

“Don’t cry honey.” His mother ruffled his hair, placing Bolt on the table.

They left and Bolt sat up, looking around. The hallway wasn't much to look at, but there were pictures he hadn't seen before.

There were also places where pictures had been taken down.

There was a childish painting, and Bolt examined it, it was the only thing he had seen so far that resembled a family portait. There were four figures on the picture, a little baby held by the mother, the father standing beside and slightly behind her, and a small blond girl.

It was a strange picture to have framed in the hallway. There were no photoes around, which Bolt tried not to wonder about. Not everyone put photoes on the wall.

If that was a family picture, where was the girl? Where was the father? Why didn't Freddie talk? Why was he so sad all the time?

Why hadn't they given him the file?

He heard the key turn in the lock, and dropped.

Mrs Masters stepped through the doorway, her purse dropping with a thud to the floor.

She sniffled, wiping a hand over her face, her macsra making her eyes black, and Bolt realised she was crying.

Oh.

She picked him out, her hands cold compared to Freddie's, and she hugged him tight to her chest.

Her heart was thudding.

"I'm being silly." Tears fell, starting to make Bolt wet. Apparently he was going to spend a lot of time wet here. "It's just..."

She started climbing the stairs. Slowly, almost painfully. "I miss her." She whispered outside a door, her hand trailing over the wood. The door had remained closed in all the time Bolt had stayed here.

He wondered.

She entered Freddie's room and collapsed sideways onto the bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like a long time, before rolling over and breathing in deeply. "Be strong." She muttered, "Strong for Freddie."

She placed Bolt on top the pillow and tidied the covers.

Gliding out, she paused at the door, looking around the room.

"I can do this." She said, fisting her hands, closing the door.

Bolt sighed in relief, and looked around the room. The old rabbit was sitting on the bedside table.

Bolt stood up and examined the rabbit.

He was such an old rabbit.