[ WP ] The monster under your bed is protecting you from something much worse .

Tim whimpered. 
 
 He knew that Mommy said he was growing up now, and that he needed to be a big boy. Daddy called him his little man - just six years old, and already riding his bike with no training wheels. Riding bikes was a little scary, but Mommy was there to help when he got all wobbly. He'd only skinned his knee once, and that time, Mommy had given him a kiss and a Pooh-Bear bandaid. That had made it feel better. Daddy had gotten a little angry at him when he'd cried, but Mommy had been there to hug him. 
 
 Mommy always told him that big boys were n't afraid of the dark, but Tim still felt afraid now. There was something under his bed. Something big, dark, and scary. He could feel it. Sometimes he thought he heard laughing. 
 
 `` I-is anyone there?'' Tim asked. 
 
 `` Nope,'' a gravelly voice responded. 
 
 `` MOOOOOOOOOM!'' 
 
 -- -- 
 
 Tim felt the presence again, but he did n't care. 
 
 `` Boo!'' 
 
 `` Go away, you stupid monster!'' Tim said harshly. He felt the presence withdraw a little, as if taken aback. 
 
 `` Gee kid, what's wrong?'' 
 
 `` I do n't want to talk about it! A stupid monster would n't understand anyway!'' 
 
 `` Try me. It usually helps to talk about it.'' 
 
 Tim broke down. `` Daddy said that Mommy is n't going to be coming back from the hospital.'' 
 
 `` Oh god, Tim, I'm so sorry.'' The voice sounded distraught. 
 
 Tim sobbed noiselessly. All he wanted was another hug from Mommy. Another morning of waking up to her pancakes, another chance to tell her that he loved her. He felt a pair of invisible hands encircling him. They rocked him back and forth, comforting him. 
 
 -- -- 
 
 `` Hey Tim.'' 
 
 `` Hello, Mr. Monster.'' 
 
 `` How're you feeling?'' 
 
 `` A little better, I guess.'' 
 
 Tim felt a slight smile. 
 
 `` I'm glad to hear that.'' 
 
 `` Mr. Monster, what do you look like? Sometimes I can feel you, but I never see you.'' 
 
 A moment of hesitation. 
 
 `` Tim, you have to promise me one thing. No matter what, never look under your bed when we're talking, ok?'' 
 
 `` Why not?'' 
 
 `` I'm very scary-looking. I do n't want to scare you.'' 
 
 `` Alright. I promise. I do n't like getting scared.'' 
 
 `` There's a good chap. Go to sleep now. You've got to get up for school tomorrow.'' 
 
 `` Good night, Mr. Monster.'' 
 
 `` Good night, Tim.'' 
 
 -- -- 
 
 `` I'm hungry.'' Tim said. 
 
 `` Did your Dad not make you dinner?'' 
 
 `` No. He was out drinking again, and he brought a weird lady home. He did n't make me any dinner.'' 
 
 Tim's stomach gurgled uncomfortably. 
 
 `` I'm sorry to hear that, Tim. Hey, want to hear a joke? Maybe we can distract you from being hungry.'' 
 
 `` Sure! I love jokes!'' 
 
 `` Why did the chicken cross the road?'' the voice asked. 
 
 `` Hmm. I dunno!'' 
 
 `` To get to the other side!'' 
 
 `` That's stupid!'' Tim said, laughing. 
 
 -- -- 
 
 Tim was crying. He did n't like crying. Thirteen year olds were n't supposed to cry. 
 
 `` What's wrong?'' came the voice, as it always did. 
 
 `` My Dad hit me again,'' Tim said, `` It hurts.'' 
 
 The presence grew grave. 
 
 `` He do that often?'' 
 
 `` Yeah. I'm scared.'' 
 
 -- -- 
 
 Tim had a black eye, and his nose was bloody. 
 
 `` Tim, you have to get help.'' 
 
 `` I'm scared.'' 
 
 `` Tim, listen to me. Sometimes, you have to be brave. It scary, I know, but you have to do this for yourself.'' 
 
 -- -- 
 
 Tim was happy. He'd escaped his abusive home, with a little help from the police. He was in high school now. 
 
 He'd had n't talked to his friend for awhile. 
 
 ``... and then, I totally asked her out! She said yes!'' 
 
 `` Nice!'' the voice, gravelly as always, responded. 
 
 Tim felt some apprehension, then a tinge of sadness. 
 
 `` Listen, Tim.'' 
 
 `` Yeah?'' 
 
 `` I think it's time that we stopped our little chats.'' 
 
 Tim was shocked. His friend had been the one constant in his life. 
 
 `` You're in a good place now,'' the voice continued, `` And I do n't think you'll need little old me any more.'' 
 
 `` Wait!'' Tim said. 
 
 `` I think you've outgrown me. Be good kid, alright?'' 
 
 Tim felt the presence fading. Somehow, he knew it would be the last time. He frantically scrambled off his bed, pulling up the cover and looking underneath, hoping to grab the monster, convince him not to leave, anything. 
 
 There was no one there. 
 
 Tim slumped back. `` All of this... was it real?'' 
 
 He felt the smile one last time. 
 
 `` Does it matter?'' 

