Horror House

I run screaming through the horror house with the kids

telling them it will be okay,

the hooded figure with bloodshot eyes  chasing us, lunging at us from dark corners, 

is just a man having fun.

Later that night I wake up to real horror- 

the flare has struck 

without warning.

She's been up all night in pain.

There is blood.

Is this God having fun? 

It's not funny.

We plan 

how to get antibiotics,

where the nearest hospital is

how to get down windy hills, a 9-hour journey by road back home, 

as our plans 

for a holiday in the Highlands

dissipates like cloud on a hot tar road

The thought of potential hospital stays, 

bland food,

blood again everywhere,

haunts us-  

the real horror house 

reminding me 

I can run but cannot hide.

I wish I could scream

and laugh it away, heart thumping,

but this horror, faceless, 

is here to stay.