By Simply Shelby
Fear. That must have been the first thing he felt when he opened the bedroom door and looked to the rest of the deserted house. Somehow, the homey hallway became eerie and frightening. He blinked when he saw something move in the living room, and slammed the door shut to keep him safe.
I turned in my chair, when I heard a door squeak open. Looking down the hallway, I caught a glimpse of brown hair before the door slammed shut. I smiled, knowing Cameron had woken up. I got up from my chair and headed towards the door, but I fell short after I opened the door. Cameron was sleeping soundly. Puzzled, but unfazed, I closed the door and returned to my chair.
Minutes later, I heard crying and loud sniffing coming from the back bedroom. I got up, once again, and started down the hallway. As I walked closer to the door, the cries became clearer. The boy's shaky voice was crying, the all too familiar, "I want my mommy!" I had known the boy for years, and I knew from experience, when the boy was upset, he didn't want to be touched or comforted by anyone, except his mom.
But, I also knew if I didn't do anything, it would only get worse. I hesitated, not knowing what I could do. I took a deep breath and tapped on the door. In reply, I received a high pitched scream. I winced, but still opened the door. Under the comforter, twisted up, was Cameron, unaware I had entered. I crouched down beside the bed and waited for him to come out from the blankets.
A few tears and sniffles later, a brown-haired head peeked out from the covers. He looked at me with his tear-filled puppy brown eyes. Leaning forward on my toes, I asked him, "You okay, Kiddo?"
Cameron kicked half the covers of his body and answered, "Yes, B-but I-I want m-my mommy."
I smiled comfortingly, amused at his usual stutter, which made him look a bi cuter than usual. He kicked the rest of the blankets off himself, and lifted his arms up, telling me he wanted to be held. I hoisted him up into my arms, hugging him tightly, before he could rest his head on my shoulder. He returned the hug by snaking his arms around my neck. I said nothing to comfort him, knowing he wouldn't understand the words, but would understand the comfort of an embrace.
I stood there in the middle of the nursery room, rocking Cameron as he cried on my shoulder. His skin was searing and his hair was sweaty, as most kids his age were after they'd just woken up, but I wouldn't have let go for the world. I softly stroked the boy's chocolate hair, and rubbed small circles in his back, both comforting gestures. Soon the muffled cries became sigh-sobs, and his breathing leveled out. The boy had felt safe and secure enough to calm down. I continued to sway back and forth, as the boy fell asleep to my silent lullaby.