My Monster Is Real

    Hazel eyes wide, the girl strains to see through the murky darkness.  Relentlessly, she keeps her eyes fixed, trance-like, on the shadowy doorway across the room.  It's closed now, that door.  But, all too well, she knows how fast that can change. 

    A familiar sense of dread washes over her, threatening to consume all her hard, fought for self control.  The searing ache in her chest makes her realize she's been holding her breath.  She sucks in much needed air, trying to calm her quivering nerves.  The thunderstorm brewing outside must be what's causing the atmosphere to seem so thick and heavy, she assures herself.

    A small, small sound has her pulse pounding in her throat, the sound echoing in her ears.  Tightly clenched fists pull the covers up closer.  Curling her slight form into the smallest ball possible, she waits and listens... and waits.  Mayber it is just her imagination.  Maybe it is nothing.  Maybe he won't come tonight.  Maybe he wants to sleep, too, tonight.  Maybe it's all in her head.  But, she knows that isn't true. 

    Everyone knows that monsters like to wait until the dead of night to come, right?  So why didn't anyone believe her?  For she can tell them exactly what her monster looks like.  Oh yes, she has seen him many times before.

    Okay, so maybe she did have a history of waking everyone in the house, in the middle of the night, with her nightmares.  She always got a earful of all the gory details the next morning, over the breakfast table.  None of which she remembered herself, thank goodness!  And  maybe, in the past, in her younger years,  she might have been caught sneaking into the bed of  one of her older siblings, seeking comfort and protection from all the imagined things that go bump in the night.

    Suddenly, a big clap of thunder and the simultaneous opening of the door has her sitting straight up in bed.  The sounds of the storm drown out her scream.  Startled, the shadowy form at the door disappears as quickly as it appeared.  Her breath coming in great gulps, she waits for long minutes.  Her eyes search for the slightest move.  Her ears strain for the slightest sound.

    Cautiously, she lays back down.  She waits, as she does every night.  The minutes, and then an hour, tick by.  Nothing happens.  Gradually, her body relaxes, bit by bit and finally she falls into a fitful sleep.