ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅ

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In this small room that I had known for years. . . I had always feared looking under my bed. The thought made me shiver to the bone. Anything that fell there never came back out. At night I would beg my mother to stay by my side until I fall asleep, or keep the night light on and snuggle up to my bunny.

My parents never understood. They don't know. . . They don't know how scary the dark is. I can always hear his laugh. . . drowning in insanity and piercing my soul. He was always there. Watching, waiting, and wailing. I'm scared. I had forever been scared of him.

Childhood friends, neighbours, and schoolmates. They all understood my fears. . . But the grown-ups were grown-ups. They don't understand. They don't understand the foul creatures waiting to just grab us by the ankles and pull us into the shadows. "They eat naughty children, " my teacher used to always tell us.

But oh dear God! We all did something naughty at a certain moment!! Giselle always hid candy corn in her pockets and  in class, foul Jack once threw stones at the fish in the pond behind the school, and . . I could not save a wounded bird with a broken wing. I was a bad child I say. . . A very very bad child! Mrs Gibble said so!!

And so I cried every time I heard his sinful laugh at night. I had hugged Mr Fluffy's ears real tight and shut my eyes; for if I did not, I would see that blurry movement from the corner of my eyes for a split moment. As a child. . . my fear of the dark grew more every night. I could only finally sleep when my mother sang me the lovely lullaby to sleep. . . The evil laughter would disappear. Just like that.

"Sleep little child the angels are watching,
Count the stars and forget all your worries,
A demon's cry is that of agony,
Oh, my child sleep soundly,
Count the stairs and forget your worries,
Sleep, little child. . ."

The song never made sense to me, alas it always helped me stumble into the world of dreams and that was good enough for me. At some point, my mother brought me a dream catcher and a strangely handmade necklace that had a brown feather and a strange sharp fang dangling from it. I kept them with me for as long as I remember, even after moving out for university and college. After that, I never heard the evil laughter of that cruel man again, or saw any movement in my room at night. . .But alas I still could not bring myself to look under my bed. If the damned creature had fallen into an endless slumber then I did not wish for it to wake up and pull me into the dark due to my recklessness. I thought it was over. I was a good child. No more monsters under my bed. I was all grown up.

" Boy was I wrong."

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