Tilou's bad dream

Tilou the little elephant was sleeping in his bed, snuggled up to his cuddly toy, a cloth giraffe with one ear missing. Everything was calm. And then, in his sleep, a big shadow began to move towards him. It grew, and grew, and grew.

"Waaaah!" Tilou's eyes flew open. His heart went boom, boom, boom, very fast. He squeezed his giraffe and called, "Mummy!"

Big footsteps came down the hall: thump, thump, thump. Mummy Elephant sat on the edge of the bed, and the bed gave a little creak. "I'm here, Tilou." Tilou threw himself against her. "There was a shadow," he said. "Big, big, big." "A shadow in your dream? Mmm. Come on, let's look together."

She switched on the night-light. Click. A soft golden glow settled over the room. "Do you see the chair? Your jumper is on it. Do you see the rug? Your lorry is there. And under the bed?" She leaned down. "One sock. Nothing else." Tilou looked everywhere with his big round eyes. There was no shadow.

"It stayed in your dream," said Mummy. "It doesn't know how to open doors." Tilou thought about that. "It doesn't know how to open doors," he said. He sniffed hard, and his trunk made a funny little noise: prrrt. Mummy smiled.

She laid her trunk against Tilou's cheek. "Let's breathe together. Fffff." Tilou blew out too: "Fffff." Boom... boom... boom... His heart was already slower. "Fffff." "Fffff." Boom... boom.

Mummy laid him back on his pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chin. She tucked the giraffe under his arm. "I'll leave the night-light on. I'm right next door. If you call me, thump, thump, thump, I'll come." She hummed softly, a little song without words, hmm, hmm, hmm.

Tilou's eyelids grew heavy, heavier and heavier. In his new dream, he was jumping in a puddle with his giraffe, plip, plop, splash, and the water tickled his toes. Mummy turned off the hall light. In the bedroom, the night-light glowed gently, and Tilou was asleep.