The Monster

Periwinkle · 2008-03-11T00:59:27Z

This was pretty fun to write...it took three days but I'm semi-satisfied. Just a five-year-old girl who imagines a monster under her bed and becomes slightly obsessed Not a single sheep could help me return to sleep. A small, cotton-like animal has no ability to drown out the sound of the impossibly loud sleet that pounded on my window like a thousand rocks skipping down pavement. Nor could counting gigantic cotton balls ease the sense of dread that flooded into my system as I looked around my room. They couldn’t possibly soften the eerie, ghostly aura that my night light cast over my play things. Said animals could not erase the long shadows that stretched over my walls like putty between two hands. Most importantly, however, not even the largest pack of sheep could possibly scare off the terrible thing that resided under my bed; the horrible thing that was grumbling with irritation causing the bed skirt to flutter. No one believed me despite my frantic pleas for help. They dismissed me as soon as I even began to utter the words. The only way I could express my fear to prevent it from eating a hole inside me was through paper. The monster completely invaded my journal, sprawled over every page with every ugly crayon I could find. The creature was depicted in every possible form I could think of and scribbled on the pages with a fierceness that alarmed me and with a realness that frightened me even more. As I stared at the drawings the monster became less like a figment of my imagination that I was so often assured, but living, breathing creature that communicated to me through a harsh sibilance that filled my room with thick, warm air. Soon I was even afraid to walk across my room. I created elaborate rituals to scare off the monster. Such ideas pervaded my mind whenever I wasn’t ripping through the pages of my notebook with a jumbo sienna crayon. I elaborated and schemed ever more carefully the next day so as not to disturb the monster. I soon discovered that the monster hated blue so I would array myself in the bright color and flung blue items to the floor to scare the monster. He had retreated, I was victorious. I wasn’t now. I had forgotten all about the monster’s aversion to the color. I had wrapped myself in victory like a warm quilt. The monster was angry, the monster wanted revenge for chasing him into the depths of where he originally came from with flamboyant hue. I fumbled about my bed in fright and looked for blue any sort of blue. Anything that I could possibly use to fight the wrath of the monster that I was sure was tensing under my bed - ready to strike and to pull me into the it’s dark abyss for my haughtiness, for flashing his weakness in front of him. I spotted something my blue dress-up wand called from my desk like a lighthouse’s beacon. Can I possibly make it across? Was it worth it? I weighed the benefits as the hail continued to attack the roof. I had to, I decided. It wasn’t far away, only a foot at least. I scurried to the edge of my bed and reached my arm out to the fullest extent. I grasped it but as soon as my fingers wrapped around the thin wand I lost my balance and fell to the floor without grace. I held my breath listening for any signs that the monster had been disturbed and that it was coiled to attack. Seconds ticked by but nothing happened. The monster simply continued to emit his steady, flat hisses. I held the wand tighter in my hand then shoved it as far as I could under my bed and waved my arm wildly. The string of hisses abated. I recoiled slightly and prayed that noise wouldn’t resume. It didn’t. I heard nothing but the pounding of the hail against my window and foot steps against the creaking floorboards. “Emma?” my mom whispered from the doorway as she peered in my bed as she searched for me in the dim light. “Emma?” she repeated in a louder tone. I turned to her dropping the wand as I stood up. “Why are you on the floor? What’s wrong?” she asked. “The monster…” I replied with hesitation. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s no such thing as monsters?” she said firmly as she picked me up and put me back in the bed. “It’s just the hail. There’s no such thing as monsters.” She tucked me in tightly and kissed me on the head. “I love you...get some sleep.” Just like the sheep, my mother had failed me. EDIT: Okay, I'm changing the grammatical errors pointed out, but I won't be able to change other things (imagery, flash back, added information, etc.) into the story until I do a complete over-haul in a few weeks. Thanks for all the comments!

lakegirls

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Points 248

Reviews 135

Mon Mar 31, 2008 12:04 am

lakegirls says... · Mon Mar 31, 2008 12:04 am

Hi,
Your story was cute. I really liked it. It was a nice short read. Are you going to continue with it?

I have an idea, you don't have to use it if you don't like. It is pretty stupid come to think of it. What if you wrote it so it was more like a child's writing? Like have errors in the writing and not use so many big words. It's just a suggestion. I love your story and you should keep it this way but it would be cool if it was more child like.

Love,
N

Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else.
-Gloria Steinem

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Talking_Pinata

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Points 890

Reviews 89

Sat Apr 19, 2008 2:14 am

Talking_Pinata says... · Sat Apr 19, 2008 2:14 am

Once again. I COMPLETELY disagree with the suggestion to make the voice less sophisticated. Children's logic and ideas far surpass us, but they have trouble finding the words to make their ideas known. So, they make up ideas and words, but if they were to describe them in a more sophisticated tone, everyone would see the genius in them. Lets replace the childish tone and get a more sophisticated tone, and suddenly we realize just how intense the fear of monsters is for children.

Brilliant work, I repeat.

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Livinginfantasy

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Points 890

Reviews 192

Sat May 03, 2008 8:09 pm

Livinginfantasy says... · Sat May 03, 2008 8:09 pm

Characterization. I felt that was the biggest flaw in this piece. It was very nice I must say, but coming from a five year old? If this was a flashback I'd understand, but I bet that even Einstein didn't have vocabulary this developed when he was nothing but a small child.
Now, on to what I liked. The imagery, A+. The descriptions, phenomenal. The plot, wicked! I liked this alot. You'll be getting a gold star from me. Oh, and I look phenomenal to reading this when you've cleaned it up a bit.
Thanks for the read!

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Talking_Pinata

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Points 890

Reviews 89

Sun May 18, 2008 8:05 pm

Talking_Pinata says... · Sun May 18, 2008 8:05 pm

Haha. I just have to. I just HAVE to point out that Einstein wasn't a genius in english AT ALL. EVER. XD I found that comment hilarious. Sorry if I offend.

I kind of get what the people are getting at now, but I still disagree with it. Sorry. I swear I'm not leeching off your story just to get more points, I actually came back to read it and see if they were right.

I think it gives the reader a feeling that the child has some complex insightfulness (is that a word) on the subject. The vocabulary just gives me that feeling. So, once again, I disagree with the other comments.

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