A Monster in the Dark

 “There’s nothing down there to be scared of,” his mother had said. “Stop being silly and go get another box of toothpaste from downstairs.” A death sentence. The boy could feel the blood draining from his face as dread filled him. No one else was home that night, meaning the rest of the house was shrouded in darkness. The stone white face, the pale staring eyes of the Monster that dwelled in the shadows swam up into the eye of the boy’s mind. He opened his mouth to protest, but knew there was no use. Rather than speaking, he slowly turned towards the door and shuffled towards his impending doom. 

The boy slowly opened the door fearfully looked out of the doorway to where the light of his mother’s bedroom fell away to an near-black void. No sign of the Monster. He crept out slowly, nervously glancing every which way for a sign of danger. 

He reached the stairs. A dim light had penetrated through the curtains veiling the dining room window, most likely from a neighbor’s porch lamp. His dark surroundings became more and more pronounced as his eyes adjusted to the low light level, and he could make out a few familiar shapes. The shiny metal edge of a table leg, the faint outline of a looming cabinet against the back wall, and-. The boy froze and the hair on his skin raised. Two lifeless, unblinking eyes stared back at him from right in front of the cabinet. The Monster! He had to get back upstairs to the safety of mother’s bedroom.

The boy turned tail and darted towards the stairs, adrenaline pumping through his body, urging him to go faster. He bounded up the stairs and could hear the Monster chasing at his heels, could feel its horrible gaze on the back of his neck. He was only a few yards from the door to his safe haven when his foot caught on one of the stairs and he fell to the ground.

He scrambled back onto his feet, praying to anyone who was listening not to let this beast consume him. He could feel its cold, clammy hands grabbing at the back of his pajamas but he threw himself into the room just in time. Warmth light and tranquility washed over him as he stared back at the doorway, panting. The Monster had disappeared. 

The boy tried to tell his mother of how narrowly he had escaped death, of what was lurking deep in the shadows of their house. But she wouldn’t listen; instead, she dragged him downstairs and flicked on the dining room light. The pale eyes in front of the cabinet had vanished, replaced instead by the round brass knobs of the cupboards. “See? There’s no monster here,” he heard her say, but he didn’t respond. She just didn’t understand.