From August 7th - 9th, bloggers are talking about their childhood monsters in Christine Rains' blogfest. Click here for the other entries.
I was four years old when the monsters came for me.
Some children have monsters under the bed. Others have a monster in the closet, but I didn't have something quite so normal. After all, you can close the closet door or shove things under the bed to stop those monsters. No, my monsters couldn't be stopped and had me sleeping with the light on until just a year or two ago.
My monsters emerged from the very walls.
They appeared as large, misshapen humans. A green luminescence glowed around them. They would surround the bed and reach out for me as they warped the space under the bed into Hell. Their icy hands would snag an ankle or an arm, so I shrank into the middle of the bed with the covers well over my head.
If I peered into the depths of Hell under my bed, a hot sulfuric belch would bubble up from the bottomless pit. I would fall to my death, if these monsters grabbed me. I always knew when they had entered the room too. So many times they'd almost snatched me because I fell asleep without being covered in blankets.
I cried out at first, but my parents thought they were just bad dreams, but how can you have bad dreams when you're awake and too scared to sleep?
I started flinging myself from my bed and racing into the hall. The monsters couldn't pass through the bedroom door. Sometimes I slept on the cold wooden floors. Other times, I crept into my parents' room and slept under their bed.
Finally after weeks of begging and lack of sleep, I persuaded my parents to leave the light on. With the light, the monsters vanished.
I was safe. Finally.
I believe the wall monsters have left me alone. Perhaps they've found some other child with an overactive imagination to bother. But I still keep light close and the bedsheets ready, just in case.