Monsters Are RealA Story by Marlena(Crit needed!) Her mother always told her monsters weren't real. She was wrong.
Previous Version This is a previous version of Monsters Are Real.
Little girl sitting in her bed, supposed to be asleep Little girl staring at the shadows in the corner On the ceiling On the floor Little girl sitting in her bed, staring at the door.
--------------- She turns her head slowly, eyes round and wide and scared. She clutches the sheets like they can save her life from the night terrors, from the monsters under the bed. She clamps her eyes shut at the thoughts of scary things, of things with no legs and heads and giant teeth and horrible breath and crawling, crawlingscratchingclawsandeyesthataren’tactuallyeyesbut- Shhhrrrrk. - She opens her eyes. She tugs on the blankets and wraps herself up in a cocoon, her voice trapped in her suddenly too dry throat. Things with no legs. The thought is there and gone in a second, surfacing for so brief a moment like hands flailing in the water, almost like a message, like an alert. What? Things with…No legs. Giant teeth. Horrible breath and hands GRABBING HANDS ANDANDANDANDAND- She smacks her hands over her ears and whispers, “STOP THAT.” As her breathing hitches and she hears it again. Shhhrrrrkkkkk. Longer. Louder. So much louder. It’s like a dragging noise, she thinks, like….Like how when her father would take out the trash and it would touch the ground for a second, maybe two, and that hissing little scratch would form. Shhhrrrrrrkkkkkkkk. She whimpers, pulls the covers up over her nose and peeks out over the edge, blinking rapidly. Her eyes are a gentle blue-green, soft and loving. The walls in her room are pink, but she can imagine them sprayed with blood so easily. She has an overactive imagination, at least that was what her parents told her, and when she got scared she only had to close her eyes, take a few deep breaths and maybe hop out of bed and turn on the light. There are no monsters, her father says. Her mother says there are, but not the kind she’s thinking of. There aren’t any demons, but there are monsters, just not the kind that live in the shadows in her closet, or under her bed. Her mother also says she’ll understand that statement better when she’s older.
She doesn’t doubt it. She settles herself against the mattress, jumping as it creaks and groans under her and she manages a small smile. Maybe that was the noise she – Shhhhrrrrrkkkkkkkkkkkk. She gasps and presses herself against the pillows, simultaneously grabbing the one behind her. She blinks and all is quiet. Shhhhhhhrrrkkkkkk. Thunk. Thunk. Two soft, cushioned noises. The…The blankets! She whimpers, her voice caught in her throat, she takes a heave of air and brings the pillow in front of herself hesitantly, afraid to let go of the ultimate protection that are her cotton sheets.
Thunk……Thunk.
A ragged breath, a breath that is definitely not hers. It sounds like her brother when he has an asthma attack, it’s loud and strangled. There’s a mumble mixed in there somewhere, a word hardly spoken and she bites her lip to stop it from trembling. There’s moonlight streaming in through her windows, it’s welcoming and though it casts shadows that scare her, tonight it reveals something. She finds now that light can both conceal and show, it can hide the scary things from sight but they’re still there. A hand rises from the foot of the bed, blue in the moonlight. It tenses its fingers, squeezing and grabbing at the air before falling to the flat surface of her bed. She curls her legs in as the second hand comes up, reaching out to grab at the sheets, claws long and yellow tearing into her comforter. She chokes a scream and kicks her legs, pillow stuck in her arms. The skin of the creature at the end of the bed is blue, a pale blue with etches of black and yellow in it, it’s veins are pulsing beneath it’s skinny arms and as it hauls itself up she feels her mouth drop open. Shoulders first, it’s skin and bones, it’s shoulders outlined by veins and strange skin. It’s head is pulled back, hanging limply on its neck as it’s eyes stay wide, white with a tiny dot of black in the center. It’s mouth is drawn open, revealing sharp teeth in jagged rows, like broken glass and wine bottles, and it’s nose is missing, a crater in it’s impossibly blue face. It opens its mouth wider, showing off ripped muscles and dripping black mucus onto the sheets, and takes in a ragged breath. A few strands of brown and gray hair are smoothed onto it’s head, showing how round and curved it is. It’s ears stick out, she sees a rip in one of them and little maggots writhing beneath the skin, itching and irritating. It draws back one hand and hauls forward, she inches back with another choked scream and raises the pillow. Another few inches forward for the thing and another few inches back for her. She’s pressed against the headboard, back achingly straight and as the creature crawls forward now she stands, pillow still raised. She catches a glimpse of it’s back and sees ribs, shoulder blades and vertebra sticking up like jagged rocks on the shoreline, dull but sharp and painful looking. They’re all covered in a thin layer of skin, and her eyes travel down to find that it’s body stops too soon, it’s--- Things with no legs --- legs are missing, it’s hips are gone and rotten organs trail that same dark mucus across her bed. It’s spine remains, trailing out like a black and white tail, dried cartilage between those jagged vertebra cracking and popping as it moves. She looks back down and sees it reaching for her leg. THOSE ARE MINE. Without much thought, she draws the pillow back, screams loud and- WHUMP- it’s hand is smacked away. It looks up-Oh,IKNOWyoudidnotjustdothat- with it’s strange eyes, it’s eyes that are all white except for that tiny, tiny dot of black in the center and it breathes raggedly, it breathes louder and she sees its back move and melt as it takes in a breath. It’s about to scream when her bedroom door flies open and smacks against the wall. Her father comes in first, eyes both tired with shadows beneath them but alert from her scream. Her mother wheels in next, baseball bat in hand, and her brother last, holding what appears to be a pan of some sort. Her father shrieks like she had a moment ago, aims and –chkCHK- fires. The thing lets out a scream of agony as it flies sideways off the bed, arms cart wheeling around it as it lands on the floor a battered heap. Her father pumps the shotgun and fires and he runs over to it, her mother runs and grabs her and pulls her off the bed and her brother ran downstairs and out the front door at the sight of the creature. When the shotgun blasts stop and her father stands over the black-mucus pile of the creature, huffing and puffing and his cheeks rosy pink they hear sirens off in the distance. The front door is open and they hear feet pounding up the steps as her brother comes running back with the neighbors, all of the men with whatever kind of weapons they have, she clears her throat, her voice finally found, and asks, “Momma….can I sleep in your room tonight?”
© 2009 MarlenaAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on September 1, 2009 Last Updated on September 1, 2009 AuthorMarlenaNYAbout-What's there to know? It's obvious why I'm here, that's all you need to get it.- more..Writing
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