The familiar, unknown. Bright colours, dark. This room she loves a canvas for nightmares. The wardrobe a gateway, a dragons mouth, demons and shadows all lurking inside. Teeth gnashing, claws dragging, covers pulled up tight. Heart pounding, fingers curled. A squeak, a whispered shout.
A warm touch. Her familiar face. That voice. She touches your skin, brushes the hair from your head, with a soft lullaby the nightmares dissolve. Evaporate.
They lay waiting for the darkness. For fear to rise again.