People Monsters

"One more story," the child begged. He clung to his father, his hands clenching the man's shirt. His knuckles white with the strain of holding on too tightly.

"No more stories," the father said. He was tired. Overtime at the garage gave him a little bit more money but it was back breaking, thankless work. The last thing he wanted when he came home was to see his son still awake. He wanted to sit down, open the paper and read.

"One more drink of water?" he whispered. He looked over his shoulder, his blue eyes wide as he looked into his brightly lit room. He saw the letters of the alphabet painted across the wall, the floor that was still scattered with toys and action figures. His covers were a gaping maw, ready to swallow him whole.

"You've had enough water," his father sounded angry. The father tightened his grip, his jaw set. He dug his nails deep into the boy's slender arms.

"I have to pee."

"You've already gone to the bathroom, Anthony."

The no nonsense tone, the boy knew it well. Unlike his mother, his father wouldn't care if the monsters ate him. He was going to be put in bed, the bars pulled up, the lights turned off and the door closed. He was going to be left with the monsters.

"…I don't want to sleep alone," he said. He was lowered into the bed; the covers were pulled up to his chin and tucked in by his sides. His father knew how he liked to be tucked in. Nothing but his face could be seen; his feet had to be pushed under the covers, his arms at his sides. There could be nothing for the monsters to nibble on when he was sleeping.

"Good night Anthony," the man muttered. He bent down, put his face close to his son's and spoke slowly, "No nonsense, I don't want to come back in here tonight," he warned.

Anthony nodded once, his face paling at the tone. His eyes followed his father as the man walked to the door. He closed his eyes and breathed out. At the end of his exhale the light was off. When he opened his eyes, the door was closed. He huddled under the tight cocoon that his blanket made. He squirmed and closed his eyes again. "Just sleep, go to sleep," he begged himself. "Just once, don't see the monsters. Be good, please be good. No monsters."

He envisioned sheep jumping over a fence. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep.

Why were the sheep jumping over a fence? He wanted to know.

Four sheep, five sheep, six sheep, he imagined why the sheep were jumping. There was a monster behind them. A monster with that would eat the sheep if they didn't jump over the fence.

It was coming for them.

One sheep was too small, it couldn't jump as high as the top of the fence but it was too big to fit through the slots that the wooden boards left.. It bleated. The mother sheep turned around, leaping back to him. The monster was coming .Its hand stretched out from the darkness, the shadows falling into it till the hand became tipped with sharp claws. He gasped and opened his eyes. There was a monster eating sheep.

"You don't understand, James! He's just a boy, he has nightmares. Of course he's scared with you yelling at him all the time."

They were yelling again, the monster that was eating the sheep laughed.

"I wouldn't have to yell all the time if you would get him to listen!"

It chomped down on the head of the sheep, tearing it off. He heard his mother start crying. He heard the monster as he slurped and belched.

He heard a thud. The monster lifted his head, grinned at the boy and reached out for him.

He opened his eyes.

He couldn't count sheep anymore.

He pulled his blanket over his head; he made sure that he couldn't see any part of his room. He breathed heavily, the cool air became hot. He whimpered. Why was it so hot under the blanket? He knew.. His blanket was a monster. His father had given him the wrong blanket, the monster had tricked him, or his father didn't care. He had a blanket monster. It had to be friends with the monster that ate the sheep in his mind.

He pulled the blanket off and breathed in the cool air. He kicked his legs, the blanket falling slowly away from him. He sat up and pushed it completely off of him. He tore it from the bed and threw it on the floor. The monster lay curled on the floor, its nasty blue body falling into itself. A shadow slithered across the floor and hid in the corner. Monsters always hid in corners, in closets and under the bed. His father couldn't see the monsters, what did he know about them? He said that they weren't real. He read from the books that adults liked to prove it to him. The books said that the adults were right and children were wrong. That children who were afraid of the dark had to face their fears, it was the only way that they would become strong adults.

He lied.

Monsters did exist. They were in the shadows; they could become anything that they wanted. They lurked outside of the windows, pretending to be branches as they scratched across the window. They mimicked the wind as it rushed through the trees. The wind monsters screamed his name, laughing at him as he hid in his bed. There was a monster under the bed. It ate his socks. His father always yelled at him because he was missing socks. None of his socks ever matched. The sock monster liked getting him in trouble. There was the monster in his closet that tried to get out. It rattled the doorknob and hit its body against the door. It hadn't broken through yet, it was too stupid. It was like him when he was in trouble, when he was put in his room and wasn't allowed back out. His father called him stupid, and Anthony knew that he was. He had to be because all his father did was yell at him and call him that name.

Then, there was the shadow man. The Shadow Man stayed in the corner of his room. It moved sometimes. He was the boss of the other monsters. When the Shadow Man decided that he wanted to come out, the other monsters hid away. Even monsters were afraid of monsters. The Shadow Man was different. He was nice sometimes; he would reach his hand out and beckon for the boy to play with him. He offered the toys that Anthony had given to him as sacrifice. Days would go by and the Shadow Man stayed in a good mood. Nights would pass where the Shadow Man kept the other monsters away. Then, Anthony would say something wrong, he'd take the wrong toy or he'd give the wrong look and the Shadow Man would lunge for him. His hands reaching for the boy's throat, driving the boy to scramble back into the safety of his bed.

He tried to grab for his blanket then remembered that his father had given him a monster-blanket. He was left with no blanket. Blankets were important, every child knew that. Blankets were shields. He could pull it over his head and the monsters couldn't get in. Monsters hated blankets but the monsters were getting smart. They were learning how to look like blankets but he would always know a blanket-monster. Blanket-monsters made his breath come out hot, those monsters liked to try and cook him before they would eat him. They liked to smell his flesh sizzle, they liked the way it reddened and blistered. He grabbed his left arm, covering the old burn. He whimpered, he didn't want to be cooked.

"Anthony, you okay?"

He jumped when he heard the soft voice of his friend. "Kyle, you scared me!" He whispered, his heart racing, he put a hand over his chest. The monsters liked hearing his heart race. They liked to see him cry. It meant that they were winning.

"I thought you weren't coming tonight! Dad said that you went to the Bermuda Triangle!"

Kyle grinned, his messy blond hair was too long, and he hated to brush it. He was dressed in black shorts and a dinosaur t-shirt. It was the outfit that Anthony had wanted but his father said no. He had told Kyle about it and the next night, Kyle showed up dressed in that outfit. Anthony hadn't talked to him for hours afterwards. "Your dad doesn't like me too much," he said with a shrug. "That's okay, my dad said that you could live with us if you wanted, he loves you, but anyway, I'm here for you anyway; I couldn't let you be with the monsters alone."

Anthony could have hugged his friend, but his friend hated to be touched. He also didn't like vegetables, pasta and the color blue. Anthony didn't like them either. Kyle was brave. Anthony wasn't. Kyle wanted to fight the monsters, Anthony wanted to hide. Kyle made faces at Anthony's father and refused to eat his vegetables. Anthony got yelled at when he made faces at his father and had to eat all of his vegetables and Kyle's because they weren't allowed to waste food. There were a lot of things that Kyle could do, he was the cool one. He fought fires, he was a police man, he was the president, he was a superhero and he was eight years old. He was so much older than Anthony's five years.

"So, you beat the blanket-monster, good job," Kyle said as he perched on the bars on the side of the bed. "When are you going to get rid of these bars? You aren't a baby anymore."

"The monsters can't climb over them." Anthony answered as he moved to his knees and wrapped his hands around the bars. He could climb over them but the monsters couldn't pull him out of the bed and onto the floor.

Kyle rolled his eyes and dropped into the mattress. He rolled to his side and looked at his friend. The nightlight was barely bright enough to see by. "You've got to stop being afraid of the monsters. That's the only reason why they are still here. They only go to kids that are scared," he said, as he leaned in close, his breath smelled like the sweet dime candy that kids got at the corner store. "You have to stand up to the monsters, that way, they leave you alone. You have to do it."

"I don't want to," Anthony whined but it was too late. Kyle had already climbed over the bars and dropped to the floor. "Kyle," he hissed, "Kyle, come back here!"

Kyle shook his head and advanced slowly on the blanket-monster. With a yell, he jumped on it. The blanket-monster was taken by surprise; it twisted and rolled with the boy. It wrapped around him, flung around his legs and clung to his arms. "Anthony! Help!"

Anthony froze in fear. He saw his friend start to be devoured by the monster; he pulled himself over the bars and fell to the floor. The back of his head hitting against his bed, he saw red and blue dots in front of his eyes. "Mom! Mom! Help!" He screamed as he ran for the blanket-monster. He jumped on it and pulled. He fell backwards, holding onto the monster.

Kyle scrambled out from underneath. His face was red, he had scratches down his face, and the dinosaur shirt was torn. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled. He backed up till the blanket-monster was pulled completely taunt, then he pulled some more. The blanket-monster shrieked as Kyle stepped into the corner of the room.

The Shadow Man stirred at the sound. He straightened, black extended from him and wrapped around Kyle. "Enough roughhousing," The Shadow Man spoke, his voice familiar to the small child.

"No!" Anthony begged. He dropped the blanket and ran into the shadows. He shivered, goose bumps rising along his arms as he tried to find Kyle but the Shadow Man was hiding him. He heard his friend crying. He blindly felt along the wall. He felt his coat, his feet kicked at the toys that he had thrown there to keep the Shadow Man appeased. "Kyle!" He called out, his voice echoing and rebounding back at him.

Arms wrapped around him, held him tight.

Anthony cried out. He dug his nails into flesh and tore. He heard his mother yell as she was pulled out of the corner. The light was turned back on, the Shadow Man retreated. Kyle stood bravely, his lower lip trembling as he rushed to Anthony and wrapped his arms around him.

"Anthony, what is going on?" His mother asked, her hair mussed, her eyes dark from lack of sleep, her makeup made the dark circles under her eyes even darker, the bruise on her jaw stood out in sharp contrast against her pale skin.

Anthony stopped fighting and looked up; he saw his mother and he relaxed. He twisted away from Kyle, throwing his arms around her. "I tried to fight the blanket-monster and Kyle got pulled back into the shadows. The Shadow Man had him."

His mother sighed and wrapped her arms around him. "Anthony, we've been over this. Kyle left to go on vacation with his family in…Bora Bora."
"Dad said the Bermuda Triangle."

"Uh…" She swore under her breath. "He came back and had to leave again," she said finally as she picked up Anthony and put him on her hip.

"Liar," Kyle muttered as he put his hands in his pockets. He kicked at the ground, pouting. "I don't even like Bora-Bora."

"He said that he doesn't even like Bora-Bora," Anthony whispered into his mother's shoulder. His mother ignored Kyle a lot. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

His mother shook her head, "not tonight, you slept in my bed last night."

"Can you sleep in my room tonight?" He pleaded, his eyes filled with tears then spilled down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, his lungs expanded, ready to scream if his mother said no.

"All right, don't start. You'll wake your father up," his mother answered, "I'll stay."

She picked him up and brought him back to bed. She laid him down, covered him with the defeated blanket-monster and settled down on the floor. "Go to sleep Anthony."

She flinched as she lay on her side. Her eyes fluttered closed and she breathed in and in out a set rhythm. She hoped that if she could get her son to fall asleep, she could return to her husband without him noticing that she was gone.

Anthony nodded; he scooted over so that Kyle could lay down with him.

"Nu-uh. Not me. I'm leaving," Kyle said. He looked into the corner of the room and shuddered. He disappeared before Anthony could say goodbye.

The boy shook his head sadly as he curled up under the blanket. The wind-monsters quieted, the monster under the bed hid away from Anthony's mother. The Shadow Man stood in the corner of the room like he always did. He reached between the bars and rested his hand on his mother's shoulder, reassured that she was there, he fell asleep.

He woke up the next morning, his head foggy. He looked down at the floor, she wasn't there. He yawned and climbed over the bars and to the floor, pausing in the center of the room he took everything in. The toys were still on the floor, the letters painted on the wall, his bed was a mess, a sock was on the floor, the closet door was closed tight and the Shadow Man seemed to be gone.

He walked out into the hall and shuffled to the kitchen. He heard his father speaking quietly; he peered into the room and saw him standing by the counter. His mother was making breakfast, her shoulders slumped, her eyes wary. She looked towards him, then away from him. She sidestepped around him, her body turned so she was always out of arms reach. Her lips were pressed together as her hand reached for the salt. It tipped out of her hand and fell on the counter, she flinched at the noise.

"I hadn't heard about that," his father said. The man paused, and then shook his head. He glared at his wife when he heard the noise, "this used to be such a nice town. I can't believe someone would rob Mrs. Harris. Some people are monsters, I tell you."

Anthony froze. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what his father had said. "People can be monsters?" He whispered in disbelief. He shook his head; he had never seen a People-Monster.

"I have to be afraid of monsters in my room and people-monsters?" He whimpered. He turned around slowly, the hair on the back of his neck rose. The Shadow Man stood in the doorway. He stiffened and closed his eyes, counted to ten and re-opened them. The Shadow Man was gone. He whipped his head around, making sure that he was truly gone and stepped into the kitchen. He stopped. The Shadow Man was behind his father, every move his father made, the Shadow Man echoed. It slow sank downwards into the man's shadow.

"Hey Anthony," Kyle whispered from below him.

"What?" He looked down and saw his friend. Kyle's face was bruised, his lip split. Battle scars from his fight with the Shadow Man. His friend was falling into his shadow like the Shadow Man had fallen into his father's. "What are you doing?" Anthony asked.

"I told you the monsters would leave you alone when you stood up to them," he pointed out as he laid back into the shadow. "Now you can stop being afraid of the shadows and start being afraid of the people."

Anthony backed away, his legs jerked. He was like a puppet with his strings held too tight. His back came in contact with the small table where his father put his keys and wallet. The table wobbled. One leg was broken, his father promised that he would fix it, but he never did. The leg fell to the floor, the table slid sideways and crashed to the ground.

His father whipped around, with all the noise in the background, he couldn't hear himself speak. He hung up the phone and advanced on his son.

"People-Monsters…" Anthony whispered, "are worse than shadow-monsters."