Image Missing

So now the dragon fruit was glowing and growing.

I decided it was best to keep it out of sight of Mum and Dad and away from Tomtom, so I pulled out one of the storage drawers from the wooden unit that was crammed with all my toys. Shoving a heap of little plastic play figures to either side, I placed the fruit inside. My hands came away covered in sticky goo, like it was oozing juice – or slime.

Remembering the possibility of toxic meltdown, I quickly wiped my hands. Then I crawled into bed, eyes fixed on the drawer and the glow coming from inside. To be honest, it wasn’t the behaviour I’d come to expect from fruit. I mean bananas and mangoes never did this sort of thing. Even with kiwi fruit you knew where you were. But this? Frankly it was weird.

I had every intention of keeping a close watch on the fruit but, after all the digging and wrestling with the bongleweed, I was so tired my night-time vigil probably lasted about three and a half minutes.

I don’t know how long I’d been asleep when my eyes suddenly snapped open. The room was dark, but there was still a glow from the drawer. Suddenly the whole wooden unit began to rattle and shake – that must have been what woke me – and then just as quickly it stopped.

I peeled back the covers and crept out of bed. I switched on my rocket lamp and crouched down next to the drawer. Slowly, I opened it and peered in. The fruit sat there, glowing but unmoving. Had I been imagining things? I rolled my eyes at my own crazy imagination. And then checked the room for the unicycling gorilla who usually turns up in my dreams. But there was no gorilla. Which meant this was no dream.

Image Missing

I turned back to the fruit and then jumped in alarm as it began to move, shaking the drawer again – and this time I clearly saw one side of it bulge. It was as if something inside was trying to burst out! The skin stretched and the spiky leaves stuck out as the bulge moved under the surface. I thought of the worm I’d once found in a pear from Grandad’s garden. What if some kind of monstrous maggot was squirming its way out of the dragon fruit? The thing twisted and writhed and pushed. I started to back away. There was no way I wanted a mutant maggot launching at my face.

But as I took another step, I stumbled over King Kong and came crashing to the floor. I kept my eyes fixed on the still-rattling drawer. And then there was an almighty …

POP!

Image Missing

Like a cork from a bottle, something shot over my head. A spray of messy pulp and little black seeds covered the floor and splattered my trouser leg. For a second I just lay there, eyes pinned wide open.

Then I heard scratching, and a noise like someone striking a match. I spun around, eyes scanning the floor to see where the maggot – or whatever it was – had landed. But all I could see were the toys I hadn’t put away. There was the scratching sound again, like the fizzle of a match igniting. Whatever was making the sound was behind my beanbag. The match struck for a third time.

I edged closer, keeping my eyes firmly on the mound of the beanbag. As I bent towards it, one edge moved. There was something wriggling underneath, trying to squirm its way out. Where was Tomtom when I needed him? He’d left enough sad little critters on my carpet over the years, as ‘presents’ – he’d definitely know what to do with some kind of mutant fizzing worm. My heart was hammering in my chest. I’d have run a mile, but if I took my eyes off it, it might slink away and then I’d have to go back to bed knowing it could be somewhere in the room with me.

I grabbed a mug from the desk and stood up, ready to trap whatever it was.

Image Missing

Slowly and very, very gingerly, I lifted a corner of the beanbag. Every bit of me was poised, ready to jump out of my skin if the thing came shooting out at me. I lifted the beanbag higher, millimetre by millimetre, until I saw it, lying curled underneath. The mad hammering in my chest started to calm as I gazed down at the tiny creature in front of me, which was most definitely not a mutant maggot. Although quite what it was I had no idea.

It looked like a bird. But it had thorny little spines down its back and it seemed more leathery than feathery. It was bright red and its wings were scalloped, a bit like a bat’s. And it shimmered in the light of my rocket lamp, like it was having trouble deciding on the very best shade of red to be.

As I stood there, my mouth gaping, it raised its head, swung it from side to side and sneezed. Only what came out wasn’t spit and bogeys, but a bright little spark and a wheeze of smoke. And that’s when my brain woke up and I knew – for sure and no messing – that what was nestled in my Batman dressing gown, scratching its claws across Robin’s head as it hopped from foot to foot, was an actual dragon!

Image Missing