By: J.J. Cheesman
John was a logical man. His mind was always grounded in reality, and never strayed into the realm of fantasy. He had been this way ever since he was very young. Still, he wasn’t a heartless man. So, when his son; Trevor, crept into the bedroom where John and his wife was sleeping to complain of a monster in his closet, John got up without a complaint at all and walked Trevor back to his room.
“There are no such thing as monsters, buddy, I’ll prove it to you, come on.”
John walked down the hall connected his son’s room to his own, Trevor close behind him. The nightlight placed on the outlet nearest to Trevor’s room casting their shadows on the opposite wall. When they reached the bedroom at the end of the hallway, Trevor stood by the door, unwilling to go inside. The room was partially lit by the light in the closet, the door of which John removed some time ago when Trevor complained of hearing ‘breathing’ behind it. John walked into the closet, and pretended to look around on the floor for anything hiding low to the ground. He did notice a bit of a stench coming from the closet, and made a mental note to make sure his wife was doing the laundry properly. He smiled, then turned to his son who still stood close to the doorway.
“See bud? Nothing to be afraid of, there’s nothing going to get you.” John stepped out of the closet.
“Can I sleep with you and Mommy tonight?” Trevor asked.
“No buddy, you need to learn to sleep in your own bed, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
John brought tucked Trevor into his bed, and he kissed him goodnight, before returning to bed himself. For nearly a week, John’s household slept without disturbance. Then, one night, John awoke to Trevor, once again.
“What is it buddy?” John said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“The light in my closet is broke.” Trevor said, meekly. “Okay buddy, I’ll switch the bulb with the one in your lamp, and we’ll get you a brand new on for your lamp in the morning.” John said, exhaustion and a little bit of irritation leaking into his voice.
John and Trevor made their way through the hall once again and, once again, Trevor was close behind John but this time, Trevor stopped in the glow of the nightlight. John stepped through Trevor’s doorway and was nearly to his night stand before he realized the absence of his son.
“Trevor, get in bed while I change the light, I’m very tired.” John said a little angry. Trevor did not move from his spot, and he shook his head no.
“Why not!?” John hissed. Trevor spoke in a shaking tremor.
“She’s afraid of the light Daddy, that’s why she didn’t follow me into the hall.”
The stench from Trevor’s closet had grown now, so badly that John had to hold back from throwing up. How did he not notice when he first walked in? “
“What are you talking about Trevor?!” John barked.
“The girl who crawls up.” Trevor whispered, as his bedroom door slowly creaked shut. John was a logical man, and logical men do not take monster hunts seriously. Especially when it comes to looking on the ceiling.
You may equate being logical with being smart, but if you were in Trevor’s position, hearing the screams that he heard beyond his bedroom door. You might not think so after all.