Muted canned laughter and mumbled voices from the TV that played downstairs continued to chatter in the background. The air in Alice’s bedroom remained ominously still.

She had dreaded the idea of hearing hushed shuffles or haunting whispers. Images of creeping toys, brought to life by malicious forces, scuttling like spiders in the shadows had flashed through her mind.

Alice’s breath hitched in her throat. Somehow, the reality seemed so much worse than what her young mind could conjure.

It had been nothing more than a brief touch; the gentlest of pressures applied through the blanket onto her small shoulder. Harmless and yet… the touch terrified her. The blanket was supposed to shield her. She was supposed to be hidden and protected. The illusion of her sanctuary had shattered like a pane of safety glass. A myriad of pieces held together, seemingly by willpower alone, promising to fall and break into uncountable pieces with just the smallest bit of applied force.

She lay trembling, unsure of what to do. Would the unknown fiend be angry with her if she stayed quiet? She had offered to be friends. She would be upset if a friend ignored her and yet, the courage to speak up continued to fail her. What if she said something that enraged it? Would it gobble her up like the big bad wolf threatening to eat the little piggies?

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down, came the unwelcome words in her mind as she recalled the bedtime story. Was her castle as sturdy as the third pig’s house of bricks? What if the blanket was only as reliable as the house of straw? She imagined herself exposed, clinging to her bed frame as bitterly cold winds blew all, save her nightdress, away into the void.

Tears were forming now. Her face felt hot and clammy.

Big girls don’t cry, she scolded herself. She didn’t feel very big though. She desperately wanted to run downstairs to her parents, to tell them of the monsters in her room. Let them come slay the beast. Let them comfort her with hugs and kisses and promises of sugary sweet dreams.

Her castle had become a prison. The doorway into the light was an empty promise of hope. How could she possibly reach it without being caught first? Worse still, what would happen to her parents if the monster did decide to eat her? Large, heavy tears rolled brazenly down her cheeks, further fuelled by her guilt.

She must do what was necessary. If the monsters in the darkness were her friends, then everyone would stay safe.

“W-Will you b-be my friend?” she stammered. She felt as though the ability to speak had been forcefully drained from her. Her voice was barely audible, even to her own ears.

No answer came. The room remained overwhelmingly still. Alice sniffled quietly, unsure of what to do next. She still did not dare to move.

Desperate to appease the skulking horrors, she whispered once more into the night.

“I’m sorry.”

She waited, stricken, before her efforts were finally rewarded. The gentle pressure returned, though this time it stroked her head softly. The sensation continued and for a moment Alice’s stomach churned, believing that it was one of her parents trying to comfort her. Under her blankets, no doubt they would believe she was sleeping, crying fitfully in a nightmare of some sort. Terror turned to embarrassment. Stupidhead, she angrily admonished herself. She wondered briefly whether to lift the blanket but reconsidered this idea. Her parents wouldn’t mock her for her childishness, but the idea of acknowledging her mistake made her feel small and humiliated in a way that she didn’t understand. She decided that it would be better to stay covered. If her parents mentioned it in the morning, she could claim that she had been asleep and remembered nothing.

A soft voice called out from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m putting the kettle on. Do you want one?”

It was her mother’s voice. Her father murmured in response, presumably from the living room. The distance ate at the clarity of his words, but it was unmistakeably his voice.

It felt as though ice were flowing through Alice’s veins. A dread chill swiftly replacing the warmth that had finally begun to spread through her. The gentle stroking continued without pause, unperturbed by Alice’s confirmation of an unknown presence in her bedroom.

After a while, she realised that her jaw had been hanging open a little. Her soft panting had considerably dried her mouth and throat and so she gulped heavily, seeking relief. The conscious action brought her back to her senses and she truly considered the situation she was in. The monster had never actively harmed her in the past. Even now, if she were unaware of who stood in her room, she would be comforted by the action. She imagined writhing purple tentacles piled around her bed, emerging from the shadows beneath and moving to slowly smooth her hair as her mother would often do when she was upset. She shuddered at the image and frowned. Was she being fair? The ghost in the film was also frightening but he didn’t mean to be. Curiosity began to overtake her fear and she was emboldened. Her whisper was stronger this time.

“What’s your name?”

The gentle stroking paused for a moment, before continuing. Alice chewed on her lower lip, carefully considering her next question. Maybe he’s shy, she thought to herself, maybe he doesn’t have friends. An idea occurred to her.

“My name’s Alice,” she whispered, hoping that an introduction might help. Her mother had always told her that you should introduce yourself when meeting someone new. “You can tell me your name,” she prompted again, her reassuring tone similar to one that would be used to tempt a kitten from its hiding spot, “it’s ok.”

A small pause in the stroking motion, but again, not a sound was heard.

A small knot of concern began to grow in Alice’s chest. Maybe he doesn’t have a family either. What if he doesn’t have anybody? It felt to Alice that there could be no worse fate. Had she dried her eyes, they would have been filled anew with tears. Finally, her thoughts rested on one last question that caused her empathetic heart to ache with pity. What if no one ever gave him a name?

“Do you…” she broke off, unsure whether to ask the question. Her heart demanded to know. Images in her mind of twisting and creeping tentacles had been replaced with a far more sorrowful sight; a small teddy bear laying forgotten in the shadows beneath the bed, limp and unwanted, with large button eyes that gleamed hopeful yet forlorn.

She tried again, softly, “Do you… have a name?”

Again, the stroking paused, but this time it did not resume. The light weight removed itself from her completely before two light touches were felt on her shoulder, as though someone had tapped her with a finger through the blanket.

Alice’s brow furrowed as she puzzled over this new reaction.

“Can you tell me?” she asked hesitantly. Her tone had lost its previous strength, confidence sapped by her perplexed state.

This time she felt only a single tap on her arm.

“Please?”

Another singular tap was felt on her arm.

Alice knew her visitor was trying to communicate but could feel herself becoming frustrated by her lack of understanding. This was only compounded by the uncomfortable itching of her face. The dampness had started as an inconsequential detail but as time went on, became increasingly distracting. She reached to pull up her nightdress and wiped her eyes and nose with the hem. As she did so, an idea blossomed, and she began to consider a new line of enquiry.

“Can you talk at all?” she queried the darkness in earnest. This time when the single tap was felt, Alice felt a sense of hope. Is it like twenty-one questions? She debated how to phrase her next question carefully.

“Does that… mean no?” she probed gently. There were two gentle taps on her arm this time. Alice felt victorious.

“One for no. Two for yes?” she asked quickly, keen for a confirmation of her deductions. Another two gentle touches were felt upon her arm and Alice grinned broadly.

“Will you be my friend?” she asked the silent entity again. Worry crept back into her voice as her excitement for this game was momentarily lost. She held her breath as she waited for the wordless reply.

Tap Tap.