The Old Storybook

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

Mummy and Daddy had said so before they'd gone out.

"We could always open the window," Saskia said, craftily.

The night was tempting them, misty with cold vapours. The darkness danced and beguiled the girls.

Tales from the storybook they'd found filled their heads. Leather-bound with embossed swirls, their days had flown with flights of fancy released from its pages, opening worlds to them.

Ellen was unsure.

Saskia reassured her: "We'll wedge the window with the storybook."

Ellen was scared but Saskia was persuasive.

"Can we unlock the door too?" Ellen pleaded.

Saskia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, but it's not necessary."

Ellen thought that Mummy and Daddy would be mad if they knew.

From the woods, eyes watched the girls with fascination and wicked expectation as they climbed down. Such little girls, so pretty with the moonlight shimmering on their hair. Very easy to track.

Holding hands, Saskia and Ellen wondered wide-eyed at the night-time world they had entered and wandered further into the unknown.

*

Saskia's shriek pierced the stillness of the night.

And suddenly, they were running, running for their lives, panting and desperate! So scared! Help! They ran blindly, stumbling but they were almost there! Almost at the house! Saskia could hear her little sister's sobs as she dragged her. Crashing pursued them and their pounding hearts.

"Come on, Ellen!" Saskia screamed.

They were there! Running, sprinting for the door!

Saskia desperately reached for the knob.

Locked.

No!

The window!

Frantically, the girls ran round the house, terrified by the panting of pursuit coming ever closer.

They made it!

*

But there are no happily ever afters.

The book lied.

By the shut window were the open pages of an old storybook where it had landed.