The Dream Catcher

I heard his soft footsteps when he approached the hard unforgiving couch where I laid pretending to be asleep. My anticipation heightened when he slowly drew nearer like a cat on a hunt. I closed my eyes tightly, took a shallow deep breath and prepared myself for one of the most awaited sweetest moments of my childhood.

He picked me up carefully from the couch and I tried my best not to gasp. The familiar scent of him, a clean mixture of early morning dew and the breeze blowing from the sea filled my lungs and I found myself drifting slowly to sleep. The short distance from the couch to our bedroom seemed like eternity and I cherished every moment cradled in the warmth of his chest and the safety of his strong arms.

I felt the familiar texture of the mosquito net touching my feet as he lifted it up. Our bamboo bed melted into the luxuriously-soft mattress in that story of the Princess and the Pea when he put me down into it with intricate care. Cautious not to let the cold of the night’s mist seeped in, he wrapped me up to my neck in a blanket. Then when he was sure that I was settled in, his ritual began.

He tucked the edges of the mosquito net carefully into the mat. Then, in the darkness of the room he switched on his flashlight and tuned his ears to the buzzing of any mosquito that got in. I could hear him swat them one by one and when he thought his movements started to disturb us, he would pat me and my younger siblings on our side and brought us back to sleep.

I remembered how each night, I would drift off to sleep peacefully and woke up every morning from beautiful sweet dreams.