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

For as long as I can remember, the monster has lived under my bed. Though, I ’ ve never seen it, I ’ ve heard stories of it. How it fed, if it breathed air, or ever really slept, I didn ’ t know. After all, the space under my bed wasn ’ t that much. Let alone big enough for a monster to live under. But there it resided for years. That ’ s what they tell me, at least. 
 
 
 The monster was more prevalent when I was younger, protecting me from all sorts of scary things – especially the bad man. In fact, it ’ s been years, I ’ ve been told, since the monster has made an appearance. Now, the monster was back, to protect me. 
 
 
 I was sleeping in my bed when I woke up in flash, hearing loud screaming and banging downstairs. I could hear my mom ’ s voice wailing in the night and the bad man howling back at her. The bad man was truly evil. He looked like and spoke like my dad, but he wasn ’ t him. It was like the bad man put on my dad ’ s skin. When the skin was on, he would do terrible things; breaking dishes, windows, bones, and anything else he could grab. 
 
 
 I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, while my mom screamed for him to stop. I pulled myself under the blankets, hoping they would protect me. The door swung open and whacked my dresser. The bad man entered my room. I trembled with fear as I heard him walk closer and closer to my bed. Shaking violently, I gripped the covers as hard as I could, until he pulled them off of me. I screamed and it all went black. 
 
 
 I awoke the next day to the sound of my mom downstairs making breakfast, while a soft rain hit against my window. I rubbed my eyes and remembered my nightmare from the night before – the bad man had come back. I shivered as I pushed myself up and out of bed. I looked around my room, and nothing was out of place, despite my memories of the smashed mirror and closet door being ripped off the hinges. What. Happened? I ran my hands through my hair, perplexed but calm, chalking the thoughts to my nightmare entering into my random access memory. 
 
 
 I made my way downstairs and turned towards the kitchen. I walked through the doorway and was greeted by my mother whose face was hovering over the stove as she frantically made breakfast with a muffled “ You ’ re going to be late. ” My dad, sitting at the table, didn ’ t bother looking up at me. The kitchen was clean and organized, but not how I remembered it from last night. The sink was splattered in blood, the fridge door handle was ripped off and jammed into the wall. But, now, nothing. 
 
 
 “ I know, sorry mom… I overslept… ” I trailed off as I again caught a flashback of the bad man ripping the covers off my bed. My dad, keeping his face in the newspaper, side-eyed me with a look of disgust. 
 
 
 After covering the plate in more pancakes than a family of three could eat in a week, my mom turned around and walked to the table. My jaw dropped when I saw what caused the muttering earlier. Her bottom lip was swollen to twice the size of what her normally thin lips were. 
 
 
 “ Jesus Christ, what happened? ” I said before I could stop myself. 
 
 “ She was reaching up top for one of her pans on the shelf and it fell and hit her last night, ” my dad said with a look of reassurance. “ Isn ’ t that right dear? ” 
 
 “ Yes, I really should ’ ve been paying better attention. ” 
 
 “ Is that what all that screaming was about last night? ” I asked. 
 
 “ What screaming, dear? Oh hurry and eat your breakfast, you ’ re already late, ” my mom replied, shoveling pancakes onto my plate. 
 
 “ I guess I ’ m having those monster dreams again…. ” 
 
 “ OH COME ON! THE DOCTOR SAID THAT WAS JUST A PHASE! ” my dad snapped at me. 
 
 
 I poured some orange juice into my glass and dug into breakfast without as much as a peep. He was right though, it had been years since the monster under my bed made an appearance. But, come to think of it, that was the first time the bad man made an appearance in my nightmares in years. 
 
 
 Pushing myself away from the table, I got up and walked towards the sink. Setting my dishes in the sink, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a tooth. I reached over and grabbed it. I flashed back to last night again, as I saw the kitchen table smashed on the floor and my mom cowering in the corner. I blinked and was back in the clean kitchen. 
 
 
 “ Mom, is this a tooth? ” I asked as I tried to put the puzzle in my head together. 
 
 “ A tooth? No, sweetie, that ’ s probably an old bread crumb, ” she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her jaw from moving. 
 
 “ Yeah, I suppose it is. It ’ s just… how… how did it end up over here by the sink if the pans on the shelf hit you on the other side of the kitchen? ” That felt bold. 
 
 “ What, honey? ” She replied, as she looked at me with lost eyes. 
 
 “ What your mother is trying to say is you need to get on your way. Now! ” My dad said, trying to take control of the conversation. 
 
 “ No… dad. I don ’ t think so. ” 
 
 “ NOW! ” he screamed back, as my mom put her face into her hands and wept silently. 
 
 “ Or what? ” Where did that come from? I ’ d never said anything like that to my dad before. 
 
 “ What? You think that monster is going to protect you from everything? ” 
 
 “ Protect me from what, dad? ” I demanded to know. 
 
 “ Keep your mouth shut, or you ’ ll find out soon enough. ” 
 
 
 Right on cue, there was a thud from my bedroom upstairs. We looked at each other with wide-eyed fear. 
 
 
 “ What… was that? ” I asked as a shiver went down my back. 
 
 “ Why don ’ t you be a hero and go find out, ” my dad suggested. My mom was now sobbing into her hands, at the table. 
 
 I turned and ran upstairs. I ’ ll be damned if my dad is going to get away with this. ‘ Get away with what? ’ I asked myself as I made my way to my room. 
 
 I swung the door open. Terror struck my body and I froze. I finally got the strength needed, and turned around towards the door and yelled downstairs, “ Dad, you ’ d better come here. ” It all went black.
