The Monster Under My Bed Anonymous

We were raised to fear the monster under our beds that kept us up at night and haunted our dreams, convincing us there was no escape. We were told to call for help and to lock them in the closet. We couldn’t even bear to look at them because that would mean they were real. And you don’t want them to be real. But I think we went about it all wrong. Because the monster under my bed was simply preparing me for a nightmare I never saw coming For months, I burrowed into myself and with wide, haunted eyes, stared into the night. I tried my best to ignore the monster telling me how bad it was gonna end, and how hurt I would be. I hid under my blanket and sang myself to sleep with stupid, innocent tales I wished were mine. And throughout the day, sometimes I’d remember the monster was there. Even in the leonine yellow of high spring, the monster was always there. It was kinda like a curse I couldn’t get rid of. It told me to not be afraid and to let my guard down ever so slightly, simply to put into perspective how numb I was truly feeling. And that if I didn’t, my life would twist into something it was never meant to. But I refused to give it any thought and shook my head “no” until it pounded louder than the monster’s screams could ever be. But then the pounding wouldn’t stop. So I called in my mom to tell the monster to leave me alone. She looked at it with solemn eyes and greeted it like an old friend. She told me it’s there for a reason and to trust that it’s for the best. I didn’t understand so I forced myself to block out the endless pleads from the monster. I broke away from its desperate grip and taught it to skip to a different tune. And with a little time, I somehow managed to reach a point where I forgot the monster even existed at all.

I look back now and wish I would’ve heeded its warning. I never thought it’d be possible for something that seemed so terrifyingly unreal to save me. Because we were raised to fear the monster under our beds that kept us up at night and haunted our dreams, convincing us there was no escape. We were told to call for help and to lock them in the closet. We couldn’t even bear to look at them because that would mean they were real. And you don't want that to be real But we went about it all wrong Because had I believed that inescapable voice telling me to walk away months ago, I would’ve realized much sooner that the real monster was you.