Mr. Midnight

11:59 p.m. I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Every sound of the house settling, every gust of wind, makes my heart jolt. Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be twelve. And tonight- Mr. Midnight will come. I know it.

The first night he had come, I was terrified. I had just turned six. The hooting of the owl woke me at midnight, as it did every night he would arrive. Once every month, with the cycles of the moon. He comes into my room and stands at the foot of my bed. If I hear the owl, he will be here.

My bedroom door is shut. Not that I’m worried about anyone seeing. I told my parents about him. Mr. Midnight- he walks through the wall and makes the room blinding white. They don’t believe me. But he has never done anything or said anything- so I stopped being afraid a long time ago.

Now I miss him. I dream about him- I told him about my dreams before they changed. Now I just tell him about school and which friends still believe me. I show him the pictures I draw of him, he smiles at that.

“Hoo-Hoo.”

The owl. It’s midnight. He’s coming. He’s coming. “Hoo-Hoo. Hoo-Hoo.”

Excitement and anxiety rush through my body, make my limbs twitch as I push the blankets down and sit up in bed. I stare out the window.

“Mr. Midnight.” My nails dig into my palms. I swallow, trying to even my breathing- trying not to rock back and forth.

My clock glows 12:01 a.m. The owl is hooting still. Mr. Midnight is coming. I miss him. He’s coming. I wipe my eyes, a giddy smile splitting my face and breaking up tears. He’s coming. I miss him. I love him. I miss him. He’s coming.

The temperature drops, chills tingle up my spine. 12:02 a.m. He’s coming. I feel a shift in the world, a pop and press, something sliding into the night.

The owl hoots and the room begins to illuminate. Air crackling in my ears as it brightens, brightens- humming. I feel my heartbeat, a rolling sensation that reminds me of watching the tide chase birds in and out of the shoreline. He’s here. I’m outside myself. 12:03 a.m.

He steps from the wall soundlessly. Walks and turns. Stands at the foot of my bed and looks at me. My breath catches. I can’t keep it down. Can’t control it as I stare at him. Scared- no- excited. So excited. So excited. He looks like Prince Charming- navy suit, yellow hair, blue eyes, tall and strong.

I want to hug him- to go to him- to kiss him. I want to- want to- I’m on my knees coming towards him- reaching for him- then I stop.

I feel wetness between my legs. I reach my hand down, and in the light I see blood on my fingers.

He's staring at me. Statue body and unblinking eyes. A pleasant and restful expression on his face. Then he nods and smiles. He moves, reaches up, and takes something from an invisible shelf. From the air, retrieves a package wrapped in brown paper. He holds it out to me.

I take it and look at it. “W-what?”

He says nothing, then turns and walks through the wall.

My clock glows 3:00 a.m. in the darkness. The air is still. My body perched stiff at the end of the bed. The package in my hands. Blood dried on my inner thigh. Confusion turns my stomach, and I drop the package as I retch.

He was gone.