The monster comes every night. It waits for me to be alone…
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The monster comes every night.
It waits for me to be alone at night. Mom works night shifts sometimes, and I guess the monster watches her leave before he gets ready to go into my room. It always smells just like the trash can in the kitchen, and he makes sounds like burps when it walks, like it’s filled with gas from something getting bad.
The first time it came into my room, I pretended I was asleep, but I could feel it watching me from the door, breathing heavily. I thought of looking at it, but something made me very scared and I kept still under the covers, hoping it would go away soon, and it did, just like it was just scanning the room.
It came a few more times just to watch me. Its presence suffocated me like a bad air closing my lungs, and I grew more and more nervous everytime, like I knew it would come closer eventually.
During the day, the monster isn’t anywhere the house. I kept checking, waiting for it to jump out of a corner, but it was peaceful. I took it as it only existed when it was dark outside. When it started to stop by my bed, I started having trouble pretending to sleep, because my heart beat so loud and I couldn’t breathe and I was afraid it was going to notice I was awake.
The first time it touched me I had to keep strong so I wouldn’t cry. I felt its hand slowly sliding over my back, and I could feel its skin thick as leather even through my pajamas. It slid aa finger under the waist of my pants, and then stopped, like waiting to see if I would wake up. I kept playing dead. Then it played with my hair for a while, and I felt it slightly shaking beside me. Not long after, it gasped, and closed its fingers on my hair, pulling it a little. I had to be strong and not gasp too. It left after.
It happened almost the same way a couple more times. It ce, ran its fingers over me, shaking, gasped and left. Then it laid down behind me for the first time.
It kept still for a moment, then I felt its body a little over mine, the cracked skin of his hand sliding harshly against my shoulder and arm. It breathed heavily, its bad breath almost making me throw up. That night I found out it had a third arm, because it hit my back with it a few times, like testing if I was really sleep, while the first hand held my arm and the other stroke my hair again.
It started to talk to me. I couldn’t understand its rougj voice or the slurred words it said, but I knew it wasn’t saying anythimng good. My fear grew and grew. When it left, I cried quietly.
One morning, while mom made breakfast, looking tired from her shift, I told her about the monster. I told her it stank and it made me scared. She sounded annoyed when she said:
‘Don’t you think you’re old enough to know that monsters doesn’t exist?’
Then mumbled something about side effects from my medication. I felt so sad she wouldn’t believe me.
For some time, the monster kept only laying in bed with me. It whispered those things in its monster language and I pretended I was asleep. It kept going for weeks. Then, one night, he finally said something I could understand.
‘I know you’re not sleeping.’
I gasped loudly and it covered my mouth with one hand, while the other, pushing on my chest, made me roll on my back. I kept my eyes closed while trying to scream, and soon I was feeling I couldn’t breath. It put its body over mine, and I thought my bones would break. It removed its hand from my mouth and grabbed my hair and held my head against the pillow.
I tried to scream, but before I made a sound it put its third arm inside my mouth. It was rough and slimy, and kept moving over my tongue and teeth like searching for something. I gagged and tried to scratch its arms, as I couldn’t move my legs. It said something in its monster language, but all I took from it was anger. I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t see a thing. Just darkness. I only hoped for a second I would be able to see the monster and proved it was real. But I could only feel and smell it.
Suddenly, it jumped and released me. I gagged again and this time threw up on the floor. I heard the monster moving around the room and cried when it left.
The next night, when mom tucked me into bed, I begged her to lock the door, and she almost scream.
‘You already know I can’t do that. If you fall or get sick, how can anyone help you? I can’t. Something might happen.’
She didn’t understand something would certainly happen if she didn’t lock the door. I begged her again and again, but she left the door ajar when she left me alone, afraid and desperate.
That night, I didn’t even try to sleep. I stayed alert, listening to the sounds echoing around the house, looking for signs it was coming. Usually it came not long before mom left, but that night it waited longer, and that made me even more scared. I knew it would come anyway and I couldn’t stop it, so I wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
It was the worst night so far. When it came, whispering those monster words, it laid over my body and ran its smelly mouth over my face and chest. Its teeth bit my skin lightly, and I could feel the sharp ends leaving that awful smell all over me. When I tried to scream, it put its rough fingers inside my mouth, making me gag. It wasn’t long before I realized fighting and screaming was useless. That monster, whose face I can’t see, is way stronger than me, and nobody will come to help me against something invisible to me.
I tried telling mom again and again, but she kept telling me to stop making stories. I told her about the bad smell – which I noticed is a worst version of what my mother smells like when she drinks from cans she says I can’t drink from -, about the three arms and how they hurt me when it gets them inside me. One morning, she had enough of it and beat me a lot.
I’ve never told her anything again.
Tonight, as I hear her leave in her car, I know the monster will come again. But tonight I want to make it go away, so, while my mother took the plates off the table after dinner, I hid a knife under my sweater. I’m ready to defend myself this time.
I hear it moving downstairs, and it seems to be walking around the kitchen. I hear it dumping something like a tin in the trash can. I hear it mumbling to itself in that awkward language.
Then I hear it coming upstairs.
But this time I’m ready.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
*JUN 1ST, 2025 – The county police department realesed the autopsy of the 10-year-old girl murdered two weeks ago.*
*E. M. was a disabled girl who lived with her parents neart the Forrest Park. She dealt with low mobility and blindness due to cerebral palsy and was killed on the night of May 16th. Her father, William Morton, committed suicide after stabbing his daughter twelve times.*
*Autopsy report shows recurring sexual and physical abuse and that a stabbing through the heart as cause of death. The child’s mother claimed during investigation that she never saw any signs of abuse. E. M. was left in her father’s care when the mother was working, and she was rarely seen out of the house, being supposedly homeschooled by her parents.*
*Witnesses claimed the parents often talked about the child as “a burden”, expressing huge resentment towards her disabilities.*
*The mother was arrested last night for child abuse and accessory to murder.*
#entertainment
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It waits for me to be alone at night. Mom works night shifts sometimes, and I guess the monster watches her leave before he gets ready to go into my room. It always smells just like the trash can in the kitchen, and he makes sounds like burps when it walks, like it’s filled with gas from something getting bad.
The first time it came into my room, I pretended I was asleep, but I could feel it watching me from the door, breathing heavily. I thought of looking at it, but something made me very scared and I kept still under the covers, hoping it would go away soon, and it did, just like it was just scanning the room.
It came a few more times just to watch me. Its presence suffocated me like a bad air closing my lungs, and I grew more and more nervous everytime, like I knew it would come closer eventually.
During the day, the monster isn’t anywhere the house. I kept checking, waiting for it to jump out of a corner, but it was peaceful. I took it as it only existed when it was dark outside. When it started to stop by my bed, I started having trouble pretending to sleep, because my heart beat so loud and I couldn’t breathe and I was afraid it was going to notice I was awake.
The first time it touched me I had to keep strong so I wouldn’t cry. I felt its hand slowly sliding over my back, and I could feel its skin thick as leather even through my pajamas. It slid aa finger under the waist of my pants, and then stopped, like waiting to see if I would wake up. I kept playing dead. Then it played with my hair for a while, and I felt it slightly shaking beside me. Not long after, it gasped, and closed its fingers on my hair, pulling it a little. I had to be strong and not gasp too. It left after.
It happened almost the same way a couple more times. It ce, ran its fingers over me, shaking, gasped and left. Then it laid down behind me for the first time.
It kept still for a moment, then I felt its body a little over mine, the cracked skin of his hand sliding harshly against my shoulder and arm. It breathed heavily, its bad breath almost making me throw up. That night I found out it had a third arm, because it hit my back with it a few times, like testing if I was really sleep, while the first hand held my arm and the other stroke my hair again.
It started to talk to me. I couldn’t understand its rougj voice or the slurred words it said, but I knew it wasn’t saying anythimng good. My fear grew and grew. When it left, I cried quietly.
One morning, while mom made breakfast, looking tired from her shift, I told her about the monster. I told her it stank and it made me scared. She sounded annoyed when she said:
‘Don’t you think you’re old enough to know that monsters doesn’t exist?’
Then mumbled something about side effects from my medication. I felt so sad she wouldn’t believe me.
For some time, the monster kept only laying in bed with me. It whispered those things in its monster language and I pretended I was asleep. It kept going for weeks. Then, one night, he finally said something I could understand.
‘I know you’re not sleeping.’
I gasped loudly and it covered my mouth with one hand, while the other, pushing on my chest, made me roll on my back. I kept my eyes closed while trying to scream, and soon I was feeling I couldn’t breath. It put its body over mine, and I thought my bones would break. It removed its hand from my mouth and grabbed my hair and held my head against the pillow.
I tried to scream, but before I made a sound it put its third arm inside my mouth. It was rough and slimy, and kept moving over my tongue and teeth like searching for something. I gagged and tried to scratch its arms, as I couldn’t move my legs. It said something in its monster language, but all I took from it was anger. I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t see a thing. Just darkness. I only hoped for a second I would be able to see the monster and proved it was real. But I could only feel and smell it.
Suddenly, it jumped and released me. I gagged again and this time threw up on the floor. I heard the monster moving around the room and cried when it left.
The next night, when mom tucked me into bed, I begged her to lock the door, and she almost scream.
‘You already know I can’t do that. If you fall or get sick, how can anyone help you? I can’t. Something might happen.’
She didn’t understand something would certainly happen if she didn’t lock the door. I begged her again and again, but she left the door ajar when she left me alone, afraid and desperate.
That night, I didn’t even try to sleep. I stayed alert, listening to the sounds echoing around the house, looking for signs it was coming. Usually it came not long before mom left, but that night it waited longer, and that made me even more scared. I knew it would come anyway and I couldn’t stop it, so I wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
It was the worst night so far. When it came, whispering those monster words, it laid over my body and ran its smelly mouth over my face and chest. Its teeth bit my skin lightly, and I could feel the sharp ends leaving that awful smell all over me. When I tried to scream, it put its rough fingers inside my mouth, making me gag. It wasn’t long before I realized fighting and screaming was useless. That monster, whose face I can’t see, is way stronger than me, and nobody will come to help me against something invisible to me.
I tried telling mom again and again, but she kept telling me to stop making stories. I told her about the bad smell – which I noticed is a worst version of what my mother smells like when she drinks from cans she says I can’t drink from -, about the three arms and how they hurt me when it gets them inside me. One morning, she had enough of it and beat me a lot.
I’ve never told her anything again.
Tonight, as I hear her leave in her car, I know the monster will come again. But tonight I want to make it go away, so, while my mother took the plates off the table after dinner, I hid a knife under my sweater. I’m ready to defend myself this time.
I hear it moving downstairs, and it seems to be walking around the kitchen. I hear it dumping something like a tin in the trash can. I hear it mumbling to itself in that awkward language.
Then I hear it coming upstairs.
But this time I’m ready.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
*JUN 1ST, 2025 – The county police department realesed the autopsy of the 10-year-old girl murdered two weeks ago.*
*E. M. was a disabled girl who lived with her parents neart the Forrest Park. She dealt with low mobility and blindness due to cerebral palsy and was killed on the night of May 16th. Her father, William Morton, committed suicide after stabbing his daughter twelve times.*
*Autopsy report shows recurring sexual and physical abuse and that a stabbing through the heart as cause of death. The child’s mother claimed during investigation that she never saw any signs of abuse. E. M. was left in her father’s care when the mother was working, and she was rarely seen out of the house, being supposedly homeschooled by her parents.*
*Witnesses claimed the parents often talked about the child as “a burden”, expressing huge resentment towards her disabilities.*
*The mother was arrested last night for child abuse and accessory to murder.*
#entertainment
source
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