A week ago, I was still trying to decide what I would write about for the June blog. I had an idea at the back of my mind that I’d been planning for a couple of months, but I’ve put it on the backburner for another time.

My writers’ group meets once a month. In order to encourage us all to keep writing, in the first half of the meeting we all prepare a short piece (no more than 400 words) on a given topic. It can be interpreted as a short story, memoir, an article or a poem. The theme for May was a piece beginning, “The door opened and the footsteps drew closer…’
Needless to say, my contribution is usually fiction. As so often happens, I left it until the last minute, and I rushed something off the morning of the meeting. My idea seemed a bit obvious, but I didn’t have time to think of another. It may have seemed obvious to me, but it never ceases to amaze me how ten or so people can interpret the same theme totally differently. This time everyone chose to write a story, but no two were remotely similar apart from the first sentence.
When I got back home, I decided I would make the story this month’s blog – not that it’s one of my best, but it proves I’ve been writing!
Footsteps.
The door opened and the footsteps drew closer. She held her breath. She could see his trainers and the bottom of his ragged jeans as he approached the bed. Her stomach tightened and she wriggled further under until she could feel the wall against her back.
‘I know you’re in here! You won’t escape.’
Suddenly, everything went dark. She bit her bottom lip to stop the squeak of surprise. He must have yanked the duvet half off the bed. Now she couldn’t see him at all, but she could hear his rapid breathing. She pictured him standing, hands on his hips, frowning down at the empty bed. She closed her eyes and waited. Surely, he could hear the loud thump, thump of her heartbeat? But he didn’t bend down.
There was a low snort followed by the sound of hollow footfalls that began to echo as he reached the wooden floor in the large bay window. She heard the swish of the curtains as he checked behind each one.
‘Are you in here?’
The wardrobe door groaned as he slid one side open. There was a jangle of hangers as he searched behind the clothes. He banged the door shut and then proceeded to repeat the exercise on the other side.
She heard him march across the room to the door.
Out on the landing, he called downstairs, ‘I can’t find her.’
‘Well hurry up. The family will be here soon.’
‘I’ll try the bathroom.’
All was quiet. She waited, hoping he’d give up and go downstairs.
Long minutes went by. Perhaps she was safe. She began to creep towards the faint light under the gap near the head of the bed. Very slowly, she put out a hand and drew back the pink-patterned duvet to look out.
Suddenly, a face appeared. She screamed.
‘Got yur!’
He tugged her out. She began to giggle as he picked her up and held her in his arms.
‘One more game, daddy.’
‘That’s enough hide-and-seek for one night, young lady. It’s time for your bath. Mummy wants you in your pyjamas and ready for bed by the time Grandma, Granddad and your Uncle Jamie arrive.’
‘But I can stay up and see them before I go to sleep, can’t I?’
‘Only if you’re a good girl and do as you’re told.’ He put her down and patted her bottom. ‘Now off you go to the bathroom, poppet.’
A week ago, I was still trying to decide what I would write about for the June blog. I had an idea at the back of my mind that I’d been planning for a couple of months, but I’ve put it on the backburner for another time.
My writers’ group meets once a month. In order to encourage us all to keep writing, in the first half of the meeting we all prepare a short piece (no more than 400 words) on a given topic. It can be interpreted as a short story, memoir, an article or a poem. The theme for May was a piece beginning, “The door opened and the footsteps drew closer…’
Needless to say, my contribution is usually fiction. As so often happens, I left it until the last minute, and I rushed something off the morning of the meeting. My idea seemed a bit obvious, but I didn’t have time to think of another. It may have seemed obvious to me, but it never ceases to amaze me how ten or so people can interpret the same theme totally differently. This time everyone chose to write a story, but no two were remotely similar apart from the first sentence.
When I got back home, I decided I would make the story this month’s blog.
Footsteps.
The door opened and the footsteps drew closer. She held her breath. She could see his trainers and the bottom of his ragged jeans as he approached the bed. Her stomach tightened and she wriggled further under until she could feel the wall against her back.
‘I know you’re in here! You won’t escape.’
Suddenly, everything went dark. She bit her bottom lip to stop the squeak of surprise. He must have yanked the duvet half off the bed. Now she couldn’t see him at all, but she could hear his rapid breathing. She pictured him standing, hands on his hips, frowning down at the empty bed. She closed her eyes and waited. Surely, he could hear the loud thump, thump of her heartbeat? But he didn’t bend down.
There was a low snort followed by the sound of hollow footfalls that began to echo as he reached the wooden floor in the large bay window. She heard the swish of the curtains as he checked behind each one.
‘Are you in here?’
The wardrobe door groaned as he slid one side open. There was a jangle of hangers as he searched behind the clothes. He banged the door shut and then proceeded to repeat the exercise on the other side.
She heard him march across the room to the door.
Out on the landing, he called downstairs, ‘I can’t find her.’
‘Well hurry up. The family will be here soon.’
‘I’ll try the bathroom.’
All was quiet. She waited, hoping he’d give up and go downstairs.
Long minutes went by. Perhaps she was safe. She began to creep towards the faint light under the gap near the head of the bed. Very slowly, she put out a hand and drew back the pink-patterned duvet to look out.
Suddenly, a face appeared. She screamed.
‘Got yur!’
He tugged her out. She began to giggle as he picked her up and held her in his arms.
‘One more game, daddy.’
‘That’s enough hide-and-seek for one night, young lady. It’s time for your bath. Mummy wants you in your pyjamas and ready for bed by the time Grandma, Granddad and your Uncle Jamie arrive.’
‘But I can stay up and see them before I go to sleep, can’t I?’
‘Only if you’re a good girl and do as you’re told.’ He put her down and patted her bottom. ‘Now off you go to the bathroom, poppet.’
Like the story it gets you hook right from the start, I would say Chapter 1 is done, so what’s in the next chapter, something happen when the grandparents are there, or the next morning as she walks to school which is just down the street from where they live, she goes missing maybe , just idea for chapter 2-3 maybe , love it already. Enjoy reading blessings love katherine
Great, Katherine. It seems to have sparked your imagination. Sounds like a great story. Why don’t you write it? Feel free.