Monsters under my bed!

20170204_135948

“Juliana”, my mother yells. “We are going whether you like it or not. I’ve told you a million times, monsters do not live under beds!!”

I’ve been told many times that monsters don’t exist. People have tried to prove it to me by forcing me to look under my bed. However, I am smarter than all of them. I know all about monsters and their habits. You could call me a “monster expert”.

My parents assume this was just a phase, but when I turn 11 and still don’t get over it, they decide to take me to psychologist.

“When your child screams when being put to bed alone at night, your child is not trying to test your will. Your child is screaming, truly, for dear life. Your child is screaming because we are all genetically hunter-gatherers, and your child’s genes contain the information that to lie alone in the dark is suicide,” the psychologist tells my parents. “Though the monsters are not real, the fear of them, and the desire to be with someone at night will remain.” My parents decide to make me sleep with my older sister Annette every night.20170122_190722-1

Although I know the monsters are still there, I am sure they won’t turn up because Annette is 15 years old, and learns Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I just learn dance, and I’m pretty sure no one is scared of dance.

Annette goes away to college when she turns 20, and by the time, I am 16 and forget all about the monsters.

14 YEARS LATER ……..

I live with my friends Isobel, Kian, Skye, and Cameron. I’m the youngest amongst all of them. Isobel is 33 3/4 and the oldest. The second oldest is Cameron (who just turned 33), then Skye (31), Kian (30) and finally me (30, but a few months younger than Kian).

We live together in a 5-bedroom apartment in Back Bay, Boston. We all have private rooms, and share a study. We are researcher scholars in Boston University. All of us are health food junkies except Skye, who is slightly plumper than the average human.

Suddenly, one night, I wake up and look at the ceiling. I can hear the wing blowing and trees rustling. A few lone cars honk as they pass by our apartment, regardless of the no honking sign in front. Then suddenly, I hear a noise, which sounds like someone walking across the floor in flip-flops. None of us are somnambulists. I don’t think any of us have ever got up in the night before. My mouth goes dry and my heart begins pounding. All my fears of monsters come rushing back. How I wish Annette would appear, sleeping nearby, with all her Brazilian jiu-jitsu skills!

Then, without warning, the door flies open. “Juliana?” It’s Skye! Phew! “I heard you scream and then it sounded like you were walking around the house so I came to check on you. Are you okay?”

“No one screamed”, I tell her, trying to keep my voice from trembling. The door flew open again, and both of us screamed. It’s Cameron. “Stop screaming and walking around, Juliana” he grumbles at me. Kian and Isobel run in with some utensils. “Who’s being murdered?” yells Kian. “Bring it on, I’m armed!” he screams even louder, brandishing a butter knife. “Um, Kian,” giggles Isobel. “I doubt you can do anything with a butter knife.”

“Oh,” he looks at it and then drops it in disgust. “Never mind, don’t bring it on!” Skye looks at all of us and asks us if we heard someone walking around. We all reply in the affirmative, and then realize what this means. Someone is in the house!

Then the door flies open. Yup, again. No one is behind it. Then this weird, high-pitched voice, which sounds like a cartoon mouse goes, “3, 2, 1, lets rock!” A bunch of cute green creatures jump in and start dancing and singing. I won’t tell you the song, for that’s my secret. But basically, the point of the song was to tell us that there are, indeed, monsters under our beds. Only two people, Eminem and Rihanna knew about them, and tried to tell the world about them with a song. No one, however, believed them. Now, the monsters want us to go on a mission, and tell the world about them, how harmless they are, and the most important – the fact that they are musical, and vegetarians.

And that’s why I am writing this story….

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s