Don't Look Under the Bed

Don't Look Under The Bed

          "Mommy, there's something under my bed."

          "Shh, no there's not. Just your toys and socks and dust bunnies."

          "No, Mommy, something big. I hear it. It wants to get me."

          "You've been watching too much TV, hon."

          "It speaks to me. It says it wants me to come down, so it can eat me."

          "You're being silly."

          "No, I'm not, Mommy."

          "All right. Should I take a look under the bed? Will you go to sleep then?"

          "Uh huh."

          "Okay. Let me get a flashlight."

          "Mommy?"

          "Hmmm?"

          "Be careful."

          "Of course I will, silly. Now, what have we got under here? Is this your teddy bear? He looks… did you rip him up like this? Hon, I've told you not to play with mommy's scissors."

          "But I didn't."

          "The dog doesn't come up here, so how else did Mr. Bear get full of holes?"

          "I gave Mr. Bear to the monster, so it wouldn't get me."

          "You and your imagination. All right, I'll sew your bear up tomorrow. What else have we got down here. Look at all these--oh, my g--"

          "Mommy? Where did you go? What's that sound? Mommy, come out, you're scaring me, stop making that sound! Mommy! Come out. Please? What's that red stuff on the floor? Mommy…?"