Rowleys lovely nightmare

57.Rowley Jefferson, the naïve and tender-hearted boy of eleven, stirred awake abruptly. It was a strange hour, 10:47 pm precisely, as per the luminescent digits on his digital clock. In the quiet hush of the night, his body betrayed him in a peculiar way, making itself known in the most inconvenient of circumstances and awaking him from a deep slumber. Despite his initial annoyance, all he could do was stumble down the narrow staircase to seek assistance.
Where the languid evening hours held the house in embracing silence, there was warmth and soft murmurs raucously filling the well-lit living room. Rowley's parents were entranced by the strange tale of Bing unraveling on the silvery television screen. Yet, the serenity of the scene was broken as the pungent scent of Rowley's predicament filled the room. "What’s that horrible smell?" exclaimed Rowley's father, his face crinkling in distaste.
Rowley's mother was quick to resolve the unfortunate circumstance, restoring her son's dignity and comfort. The foul memento was unceremoniously deposited in the makeshift disposal unit – the ice lolly freezer – a decision that may come to haunt them in the warmer months. With a fresh nappy and a comforting hug, Rowley was guided back to the soft embrace of his sheets.
As he drifted into a deep sleep, a realm of unimaginable possibilities stole him away. Rowley found himself standing amidst a utopian world, a land harmoniously painted with colors of peace and friendship. Unfamiliar warmth flooded him, his pacifist core aching in the foreign joy. A charismatic figure, Mr. Rodgers, approached him with a warm smile, offering a stick-wrapped delight – a lollipop of swirling colors.
Around him, the unimaginable was unfolding. Shrek, Peter Griffin, Pingu, and Gru, characters he had revered, engaged in a merry game of tag. The sight was bewitching, yet a sinking feeling of unease knotted in his stomach. The occurrences took an absurd turn when football legends Messi and Ronaldo, clothed in ceremonial vestments, declared their unity over a piece of horse dung.
As the dream clock stuck ten, a grand serenade rose from the crowd. It was lively and jubilant, and on any normal occasion, it would have delighted Rowley. Yet, nestled in the cacophony of combined voices and the forced harmony, he experienced a shiver of fright; to him, this surreal scene was a nightmare.
Taking the bizarre pandemonium to another level, a tiny feline creature strut towards Rowley, its eyes twinkling in the radiant dream light. With a soft mew that rang clear and pure, the miniature being shattered the illusion, snapping Rowley out of the strange dream.
Awake but still terrified, Rowley found himself again in the unpleasant predicament. Sobbing and shaken to his core, he dashed to his parents’ sleeping haven, seeking comfort, his once soft whimpers amplifying into cries of terror. His mother, her heart aching at his state, allowed him sanctuary in their bed; promising him co-sleeping solace till he turned 67.