Heights aren’t real

My hands trembled, gripping the ladder tightly. The top bunk was the preferred bed, the bed I never slept in because I was the third child. The top bunk was coveted, protected by my older sisters. The top bunk currently belonged to my oldest sister, the bottom to the one just two years older than I. But they weren’t here tonight, so tonight my younger sister and I planned to take their places. Of course, out of the two of us, I was the oldest. So it made logical sense that I would take the top bunk, and she would take the bottom. This being the logical sense of a five-year-old, who hadn’t slept on the top bunk in their life.

Heights aren’t real

I chanted the mantra inside my head, looking up at the edge of my sister’s blanket far above. My own special blanket was tied around my throat, in a cape of sorts. It was the easiest way to carry it when I climbed the ladder, after all.

“Are you in bed?” the voice of my mother made me turn, smiling sweetly at her as she stood in the doorway. My younger sister was already asleep, not having to make the trek up to the top bunk.

“Can you lift me?” I asked, hanging off the ladder. She sighed, shaking her head.

“You wanted to sleep up there, you have to get up there,” she said. “And get down by yourself in the morning.” I pouted, then looked back up at the mountain that was the bunk bed.

Heights aren’t real

“Okay,” I said, turning and gripping the ladder again. I took a deep breath and pulled myself up. My barefoot pressed down on the thin strip of wood, but I ignored it and climbed one harder. The wood was finished, and therefore slick. I knew if I fell, my mother was right there and she’d catch me. If I fell, my cape would help me fly to safety. If I fell, it was a good thing we had carpet in the bedroom. I wasn’t worried about falling.

Heights aren’t real

“See, I told you-you could climb.” She looked so far away as I sat on the edge of the bed, grinning. “Go to sleep now, okay?”

“Okay!” I said cheerfully as she turned off the light and closed the door. The only light came from the jar on my sisters' dresser, where the fireflies would be kept until morning. I scooted away from the edge and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. Uneasiness crept into me and the blanket around my neck seemed to tighten.

Heights aren’t real

I reached up and pulled at the knot, but I still couldn't tie or untie knots, even at five. So I rolled onto my stomach, hands under my chin. My younger sister was snoring again, but that was okay. Because tonight, I had the top bunk. I grinned, tapping my fingers happily on the blanket.

That was the first time I felt it. A cold wind suddenly brushed over the backs of my bare knees and I gasped, rolling over. The blanket tangled around my neck and torso, and nothing was there. But I still felt the ice cold hands brush the hair away from my cheeks, then curl it in their fingers.

Heights aren’t real

I scrambled for anything, tucking myself up under my sisters blanket. I breathed in her familiar scent and wished that she’d never gone to the Girls Scouts sleepover. She could have her bed back, for all I cared. Her bed had Heights. I lay there, terrified as I curled in the darkness. The hand vanished from my head, but I imagined it. Some invisible being, suspended just above me and staring straight through the blankets to me.

Slowly, a small pressure was applied to my shoulder in a comforting way, but I knew it wasn’t safe to look out. The Heights were still out there, waiting. Tears pricked my eyes as I started breathing faster, whimpering softly. I wanted to get off the top bunk, but if I left the blanket’s protection the Heights would get me. I could only imagine what they’d do, and it scared me more than the cold air around me under the blanket.

Maybe the Heights would pull my arms off like Elisabeth said Indians did to people a long time ago. Maybe they would take me away into the woods outside our house, and I’d never be heard from again like the boy in the scary story Mom told me. Maybe the Heights ate children, like the things in the closet Michelle warned me about. I could only imagine what the Heights really looked like since they were invisible to the human eye. Maybe when they showed themselves they were huge, with long cold fingers and tiny claws. Maybe they had huge teeth they used to pull off little kids arms, and maybe they had skinny tongues like a hurricane to pull out my eyes.

Heights aren’t real

I didn’t mean to start crying so loud, but my mother came rushing in and pulled the blanket off me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, wiping tears off my face. I couldn't talk, I was too petrified with fear. I wanted her to take me away so I could sleep in the old plaid chair, I didn’t want to stay here on the top bunk. I didn’t want to stay with the Heights. My cries stopped as my mother massaged my chest and wiped the tears away, and she smiled sweetly.

“I understand,” she said softly. I felt relieved. “Sleeping in a different place is hard, huh?” I nodded, still unable to speak. “Well, It was gonna be a surprise for you and Kimber, but we think you two deserve to have a turn with the bunkbeds longer than one night.” Wait, that wasn’t what I wanted…

“Michelle and Elisabeth are trading rooms with you guys! Isn’t that exciting?” I was still shocked, mouth hanging slightly open. My mother pulled the blanket back up to my chin and patted my shoulder. “I knew it would make you feel better, sweetie. Sweet dreams in your new bedroom…” and then she was gone. She left me.

Heights aren’t real

As soon as the door was closed, I felt those cold hands playing with my hair again. This time, one of them pressed over my mouth to keep me from crying out loud. I pulled the blanket over my head, so the hands pressed the cloth against my face. My blanket cape seemed so tight, the knot dug into the skin underneath my chin and I thought I couldn't breathe. I twisted and turned, getting the hands to let go of me as I wrapped myself in a cocoon of my sisters' blankets. I knew my mother wouldn’t come back. Maybe she was one of them. Maybe she made kids just so the Heights could eat them. Maybe the Heights were going to eat me.

I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I meant to stay up so the Heights wouldn’t surprise me. But then I was waking up the next morning, with sleep still in my eyes. I sat up, suddenly terrified. My head was a few inches below the ceiling and I looked around the room, searching for any sign of the monsters. There was none. Sun was coming through the window to my sisters' room, and Kimber was already awake and gone. The door was open and I could hear my sisters playing in the bedroom. My legs were twisted up in Elisabeth’s blankets, and I quickly untangled them in my rush to get off the top bunk.

It didn’t even cross my mind until I went searching for it that my special blanket cape had been removed by someone during the night. The triple knot undone and the pink fabric folded neatly and placed by the pillow, nearest to the wall where even my father couldn't reach from the ground. No one believed me when I said there were monsters on the ceiling. After all, everyone knows Heights aren’t real.