The Scariest Monster

The Scariest Monster

         Nearing our destination, Jenn and I plodded wearily through the thick,

humid air. The merciless summer sun was attacking us. The rays were especially

painful, pure and unclouded. Beads of sweat paraded down my neck, racing to see

which one could hide under the shelter of my collar first. At my side, Jenn felt

equally uncomfortable. Her shirt plastered against her pale white skin. We prayed to

the friendly breeze, but it would not have pity on us. As we trudged toward the front

door, a mountain of four colossal stairs was the only thing blocking our path. Finally

reaching the summit, I yanked open the front door and was immediately slapped in

the face. The air conditioning had been running all day and the frigid air was a most

wonderful adversary.


          After walking through the doorway into the utopia of my home, life

seemed perfect. An empty, cool room was the best savior from the inferno outside.

Just as we had gotten comfortable on the supple couch, footsteps could be heard

from the other end of the house. As they neared and increased in loudness, my

anxiety escalated. I knew my mom was still at work, and could not imagine who this

invader might be. I immediately clutched Jenn’s hand and started to move towards

the door. I did not want to stay and find out the identity of our visitor. As soon we

stood up, the unknown figure burst through into our room. I was terrified when I

realized who our guest was. It was worse than I could have ever imagined. My

grandma had come to live with us for the summer!


         I turned my head towards Jenn, my eyes full of terror. “RUN!” We made

a dash for the exit, but it was too late. I looked at her lips and the snaring words

were already coming out of her mouth, ready to lasso us and reel us towards our

terrible fate. “Are you two hungry,” croaked my grandma. That was the first phrase

to be heard every time I saw her. “Oh no!” I thought to myself. As the words sank in,

my heart sank with them. This was beginning of the end.


          As my grandma started to close in on us, I grabbed Jenn’s hand,

knowing what was in store for us. She looked into my eyes searching for a glimmer

of hope but I could not even feign confidence at this point. We were done for.


          My grandma quickly ushered us into the dining room and as we turned

the corner, the instruments of our downfall came into view. Mounds of food sat upon

enormous plates that could only be filled by a professional cook. The aroma was

sickening. Turkey, mashed potatoes, chicken, cranberry sauce, pickles, bread,

ham, vegetables galore and much, much more was piled atop the table. Even the

wildest imagination could not conjure up a dish that was not already present.


          Whenever my grandma came to visit, non-elastic pants became

obsolete. Day after day she would create meals that were greater in magnitude than

most families’ thanksgiving dinners. The worst part of all was my grandma has a

cruel rule of not letting anyone leave the table until they have eaten what she

thought was enough. I felt terribly sorry for bringing Jenn into this sadistic

household.


          I searched my mind for a way to escape our impending doom, but I

came to the conclusion that we were about to meet our untimely deaths. Suddenly I

heard keys jingle in the gangway. “My mom must be home early from work,” I

thought. “If we are ever going to get away, this is our chance.” The door opened, and

our savior had come.


          My grandma briefly diverted her attention to the new arrival. I vigorously

grabbed Jenn’s arm and pulled her up, out of her chair. We needed to run and fast.

There was little time. As she got up, her chair fell to the floor. My keen grandma

immediately stopped talking and gave us a death stare. Her wrinkled legs could

propel her inconceivably fast. I knew we were in trouble. I looked at Jenn and we

both sprinted towards the door. Only a few more steps and we would get to safety. I

grabbed the door handle and pulled with all my might. Glancing back, I was terrified.

My eighty year-old grandma had lunged towards us and was now flying through the

air. Her hand was only inches away from Jenn’s left ankle. Just as her grip tightened

around the lace-less Converse, I gave Jenn big hug and pulled her through the

threshold. Luckily, her petite foot easily wiggled free and my grandma was left with

only a smelly, old shoe.