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Silverfish
by Thomas Ajax
17/04/12
17/04/12
Bath-time, that’s when it used to happen. I would be left alone in the bathtub by myself and expected to wash, but instead I just rested my head on the cold porcelain edge and stared down at the floor. I can’t remember why I started doing this, but I can remember the floor. It was orange and brown like some sort of camouflage, some crappy mess of camouflage. I always wondered why you needed to camouflage a floor, but then I was lost to the world.
I never used to remember what happened when I blacked-out, but when I came too I heard my Mum telling me to get out of the water as it had gone cold and all the bubbles had popped. It was a weird feeling, not knowing where that time had gone, but as I got out of the water, and before my foot touched the camouflaged floor I glanced a tiny thing, a flash of silver, disappearing under the sink. It was be some years later that I found out what had happened and why, but I kept seeing those silver flashes.
I was ten when I first told my secret to someone. Grandma was always kind to me, I was her ‘Special Little Girl’, or so Mum had always told me. I don’t know why I told her about my forgotten adventures and the silver flashes on the bathroom floor, but it felt right. I was left alone with her a few days a week so Mum could go to work. And that’s when it happened.
I was sat in Grandma’s living room, I can’t remember what I was doing, but I know it was dark. Well, not dark I suppose, gloomy. I was sitting on her floral sofa, and I saw a silver flash shoot under the maroon brown rug. Grandma saw my reaction through the serving hatch where she must have been making tea or lunch or something. I don’t know what I did to give myself away, but I know I didn’t blackout that time. I stared at the pictures that hung on the otherwise blank walls. There was one of sheep in woodland at winter that I always liked. I say liked, I still remember it so it must have struck a chord with me, but like is probably too strong a word for it.
‘Silverfish’ she said. Her words made me jump, as it had been quiet. I looked at her through the serving hatch as I still sat on the sofa. ‘Silverfish,’ she said again as if I hadn’t heard her the first time. She smiled. ‘They’re little creepy crawlies,’ she feigned a wriggly shiver which made me laugh. That’s the kind of woman Grandma was, funny. That’s when I told her that I had seen these silverfish before. ‘Oh you would have. So has your Mum. And plenty of other people too.’ I wish I hadn’t told her, it made them less special to me. And then I told her about my blackouts, trying to claim the silver flashes back as my own. This is when Grandma told me some more things. ‘Some people believe that they’re the figments of dreams, escaping into the floorboards. And do you know what you can do with one if you catch one?’ I shook my head, insisting that she went on. ‘If you catch one, you can live those dreams. You can make them come true.’ Her voice disappeared as she went around the corner, out of the kitchen, and then she came into the sitting room carrying a tray of tea, squash, and crisps. It must have been lunch time.
Grandma’s short grey hair seemed to make the room brighter. I never knew why she styled it like that, but I guessed when I was much older. She smiled, setting the tray down on the heavy coffee table. ‘But you don’t blackout do you?’ I sipped my squash and looked at her with my big blue eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ I remember shrugging, like I was acting an emotion.
‘Well really concentrate next time you think you’re going to. You’ll see.’ I was still sipping my squash, and she winked at me. I remember promising her that I would and I spent the rest of the day, secretly, looking for the silverfish. I don’t know what we did for the rest of the day, but after Grandma had spoken to me I tried to have another blackout.
It’s true what they say that you’ll never find something if you go looking for it. But it’s also true you’ll never know what you might find if you do. What I found was something quite unbelievable.
I didn’t blackout again for another two years, it was a bad day. I had started Comp, and I was an average pupil. I went to class, I had friends, I had tests and things to do. Homework’s a bitch. But that day it was gloomy again. It seems like a haze now, but it was in the middle of school. Lunchtime. I was playing in the yard and Mum was there. I didn’t know why, but she didn’t look herself. She just walked through the crowded concrete surface and led me away from my friends. I was taken to a quiet corridor. It was dark there, even with the artificial lights, but I remember Mum saying the words ‘Grandma has passed away.’
I don’t know why, because we’re always told in school that heaven is such a nice place, but I was sad. I even felt the tears slither down my face. I hugged my Mum and excused myself. I went to the toilets, and locked myself in a cubicle. I felt sad, but I didn’t cry. I know I was crying, but I didn’t cry, you know? I was just sat there staring at the floor. It wasn’t orange and brown camouflage. The smell of public toilets is always one that stays with you even after you leave them. It was disgusting. I just remember staring at the tiled floor, and from between the cracks I saw a silverfish crawl onto the body of the white tile in front of me.
I just stared, and I thought it was staring back at me. I’d never seen one stand still before. It was odd. And then it edged towards me like some weird pet waiting to be stroked. I joined in with the facade and reached out a hand. I swear it was ready to dash, but then the silverfish, the silver flash, shot up into my finger.
I felt a warmth and a glow, and as I pushed open the cubicle door I saw colours and brightness. It was beautiful, the smells had gone, my worry was gone. The white tiles, they were still white, but they were different. The cubicles we taller, like trees, and the rays of light that shone through the high windows shone with heat and brilliance and comfort. It was a dream, just like Grandma had said. A dream, and I remembered it.
That was my first time catching a silverfish. It was my secret, and the only person who knew how brilliant and special this gift actually was, was dead. How much more did Grandma know I wondered. Did she know that not all dreams are good?
I never used to remember what happened when I blacked-out, but when I came too I heard my Mum telling me to get out of the water as it had gone cold and all the bubbles had popped. It was a weird feeling, not knowing where that time had gone, but as I got out of the water, and before my foot touched the camouflaged floor I glanced a tiny thing, a flash of silver, disappearing under the sink. It was be some years later that I found out what had happened and why, but I kept seeing those silver flashes.
I was ten when I first told my secret to someone. Grandma was always kind to me, I was her ‘Special Little Girl’, or so Mum had always told me. I don’t know why I told her about my forgotten adventures and the silver flashes on the bathroom floor, but it felt right. I was left alone with her a few days a week so Mum could go to work. And that’s when it happened.
I was sat in Grandma’s living room, I can’t remember what I was doing, but I know it was dark. Well, not dark I suppose, gloomy. I was sitting on her floral sofa, and I saw a silver flash shoot under the maroon brown rug. Grandma saw my reaction through the serving hatch where she must have been making tea or lunch or something. I don’t know what I did to give myself away, but I know I didn’t blackout that time. I stared at the pictures that hung on the otherwise blank walls. There was one of sheep in woodland at winter that I always liked. I say liked, I still remember it so it must have struck a chord with me, but like is probably too strong a word for it.
‘Silverfish’ she said. Her words made me jump, as it had been quiet. I looked at her through the serving hatch as I still sat on the sofa. ‘Silverfish,’ she said again as if I hadn’t heard her the first time. She smiled. ‘They’re little creepy crawlies,’ she feigned a wriggly shiver which made me laugh. That’s the kind of woman Grandma was, funny. That’s when I told her that I had seen these silverfish before. ‘Oh you would have. So has your Mum. And plenty of other people too.’ I wish I hadn’t told her, it made them less special to me. And then I told her about my blackouts, trying to claim the silver flashes back as my own. This is when Grandma told me some more things. ‘Some people believe that they’re the figments of dreams, escaping into the floorboards. And do you know what you can do with one if you catch one?’ I shook my head, insisting that she went on. ‘If you catch one, you can live those dreams. You can make them come true.’ Her voice disappeared as she went around the corner, out of the kitchen, and then she came into the sitting room carrying a tray of tea, squash, and crisps. It must have been lunch time.
Grandma’s short grey hair seemed to make the room brighter. I never knew why she styled it like that, but I guessed when I was much older. She smiled, setting the tray down on the heavy coffee table. ‘But you don’t blackout do you?’ I sipped my squash and looked at her with my big blue eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ I remember shrugging, like I was acting an emotion.
‘Well really concentrate next time you think you’re going to. You’ll see.’ I was still sipping my squash, and she winked at me. I remember promising her that I would and I spent the rest of the day, secretly, looking for the silverfish. I don’t know what we did for the rest of the day, but after Grandma had spoken to me I tried to have another blackout.
It’s true what they say that you’ll never find something if you go looking for it. But it’s also true you’ll never know what you might find if you do. What I found was something quite unbelievable.
I didn’t blackout again for another two years, it was a bad day. I had started Comp, and I was an average pupil. I went to class, I had friends, I had tests and things to do. Homework’s a bitch. But that day it was gloomy again. It seems like a haze now, but it was in the middle of school. Lunchtime. I was playing in the yard and Mum was there. I didn’t know why, but she didn’t look herself. She just walked through the crowded concrete surface and led me away from my friends. I was taken to a quiet corridor. It was dark there, even with the artificial lights, but I remember Mum saying the words ‘Grandma has passed away.’
I don’t know why, because we’re always told in school that heaven is such a nice place, but I was sad. I even felt the tears slither down my face. I hugged my Mum and excused myself. I went to the toilets, and locked myself in a cubicle. I felt sad, but I didn’t cry. I know I was crying, but I didn’t cry, you know? I was just sat there staring at the floor. It wasn’t orange and brown camouflage. The smell of public toilets is always one that stays with you even after you leave them. It was disgusting. I just remember staring at the tiled floor, and from between the cracks I saw a silverfish crawl onto the body of the white tile in front of me.
I just stared, and I thought it was staring back at me. I’d never seen one stand still before. It was odd. And then it edged towards me like some weird pet waiting to be stroked. I joined in with the facade and reached out a hand. I swear it was ready to dash, but then the silverfish, the silver flash, shot up into my finger.
I felt a warmth and a glow, and as I pushed open the cubicle door I saw colours and brightness. It was beautiful, the smells had gone, my worry was gone. The white tiles, they were still white, but they were different. The cubicles we taller, like trees, and the rays of light that shone through the high windows shone with heat and brilliance and comfort. It was a dream, just like Grandma had said. A dream, and I remembered it.
That was my first time catching a silverfish. It was my secret, and the only person who knew how brilliant and special this gift actually was, was dead. How much more did Grandma know I wondered. Did she know that not all dreams are good?
