Storytelling Night

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When our friend slept over at home, which was quite often, we would gather in our room to talk and tell stories. She was contemporary with my older sister who at that time was about thirteen years old, followed by my second sister at eleven, me at ten and my younger sisters at nine and seven years old.

She was the only child among four brothers and the oldest. She had to help a lot in the house chores, taking care of her brothers, while we were all females and my mother had taught us to share some chores that were mandatory, such as cleaning our room and washing up, and we helped her to clean the house and my older sisters to cook.

We all slept in one room and that was our place where we had imagined our fantasies and games since we were little girls.

That special night we had eaten dinner at our big wooden table made by my grandfather who was a carpenter and cabinet maker. There we sat the whole family plus my grandmother who lived with us.

My father worked until twelve o'clock at night and came home after that time. Sometimes he would wake us up to eat roast chicken with rolls and salad. Those moments were the gl
ory for us and we would run in our pajamas all sleepy to sit at the table.

After eating my mom's tasty food and watching TV for a while, because at that time it was the distraction, and the internet and cell phones were unimaginable, we went to our room to talk sitting on the beds downstairs. For space reasons we slept in two bunk beds. Our dog Pelusa, a German shepherd mix who looked like our second mother, had laid down very close to the bed to protect us.

The cicadas were chirping loudly and a cricket had wandered into the room. That sound was deafening and my sister Haydee, who couldn't stand it, didn't stay quiet until she found it. I jumped out of bed to take it away from her because her intention was to kill it. I took the cricket out of the living room window and threw it into the garden.

At that moment thick raindrops began to fall and a very cold breeze lifted the curtains. I closed the windows and went to my room as it was getting cold.

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The storm was very strong and the lightning lit up the sky we were looking at from the window that overlooked a backyard, which had no roof. The thunder was not long in coming. It was the right time to start telling... stories of ghosts and apparitions.

"I start", said my sister Magaly, as the eldest she had a larger repertoire of stories.

"This one was told to me at the Liceo..."

We listened to her, covered up to our heads in sheets and with the lights off, only a small table lamp dimly illuminated our anxious faces.

My mother heard us talking and went to the bedroom to tell us to go to sleep, but we had no dreams and went on until late while the rain was pouring down and the lightning was flashing and the lights were flashing.

I was telling a rather macabre story when a loud clap of thunder was heard at the same time the lights went out.

We felt something walking on the sheets and we heard a fluttering near us and we felt it was a flying cockroach, we were terrified of it and through the window they were coming in from the garden. We screamed and ran out of the room, shaking our hair with the impression that it was over our heads. When we got to the living room, our friend screamed while Pelusa barked.

There was my grandmother in the darkness of the living room, sitting on her couch with her head on one side and her legs stretched out, in front of the turned off TV. What a scare!
We heard my father's keys unlocking the lock and my frightened mother telling us

"What's going on here?"

We all stood there staring at our father entering the house while my grandmother woke up startled.

"Who turned off my TV, I was watching my soap opera".

My father with his jacket and beret soaked in water. said, "Mom, you fell asleep as usual. And it wasn't me who turned it off".

While my grandmother was going to her room, my dad with a smile looked at us and asked us

"Who wants to eat chicken?"

Those moments with my father are unforgettable, and of course we all raised our arms saying. We ate by candlelight as the storm subsided.

Thank you for reading. Here my participation in Creative Nonfiction Prompt #36.