Grandma gets up every morning to bake a new apple pies.
We are happy, because her pies are enjoyed by all children, even those who live far outside of our district. Nobody knows her recipe. Our parents say that grandmother picks special apples, which can not be bought in the store. Her pie makes me feel better, and every night I fall asleep without the fear of bad dreams.
However, grandma is always tired. My roommate says that she harvest fresh apples only at night, when all children are sleeping. Every morning I watch her walking slowly, while her hands are holding our meals with great effort. I would like to help her more than anything. Unfortunately, she does not allow it and says that all children must sleep so she can finish her job and bake pies in which taste we will enjoy the next morning.
Yesterday, a new children came. They were scared to go to bed, just as I were several months ago. Grandma promised them that everything would be all right. That night, I did not fall asleep, but I stay awake secretly watching them. They had nightmares.
Suddenly, grandma walked slowly into the room and pulled a beautiful apples right beneath their pillows. And then I realized.
Our nightmares will never stop. Only the grandmother has the power to turn them into fruits from which she prepares a delicious pies. As long as we are in her house, we will be safe from our dreams.
And live happily ever after.
Authors note:
This short story was written for the Constrained writing contest #9 hosted by Constrained writing contest hosted by @svashta