ACompletelyLogicalFearOfMonsters

Ever since I was a child, I’ve been scared of monsters.
But every time they would come up in conversation…I would just chuckle and smile. Trying to hide the fact that I checked underneath my bed and in my closet every night in some absurd routine. Putting my faith in the dream catcher hanging above my head every night I would lull myself to sleep but only nightmares were tangled in its net.
So I would fend off the shadows, armed with only a flashlight and my own words. Convincing myself that I would never be safe, and so I refused to sleep.

I thought I’d grown out of it. So every time they would come up in conversation I would just smile and say, “Monsters are just a figment of your imagination.”
But the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to believe in monsters and the terrors that the night hides from rays of sunlight and the watchful eyes of God.
And I realized that the things that go bump in the night are only messengers sending codes in Morse, urging me to stop hiding in the corners of my room.
But I was scared.

Because I have not only seen a monster…I’ve seen one created before my very eyes. As it stood before me, fully formed, I could no longer smile.
So how could I not believe in monsters?
When I’ve seen you tear tears from the eyes of women like it was nothing but a game. A challenge…just to prove your own self worth. So you squeeze yourself into a human facsimile like a perverted version of Halloween.

Monster, how dare you look like me?
Masquerading as my reflection in the mirror. Controlling my actions by plucking on marionette strings by the names of envy and insecurity.
You thrive in the dark…always leaving me on a search for happiness I just can’t seem to find. You always insist on hiding it in the deepest corners of my existence so by design, I would spend my next lifetimes looking for it. Malevolent and cunning to the core, and when you speak…it reeks so strongly of sin and brimstone that it could make God cringe. Angels on the bus avoid you on instinct, and what was once beautiful wilts at your touch. I refuse to eat or drink, afraid that I would vomit more sin into the world because I can’t stomach how similar we are. Your behaviour sickens me.
Monster, how dare you walk like me, talk like me? Breathe the same air as me?
Monster, how dare you steal my innocence?
So to everyone the monster on top my bed has hurt, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I’m too much alike every person that’s ever hurt you. I’m sorry that I never cared enough. Or that I cared too much. I’m sorry that I didn’t turn out to be the person that you wanted me to be.
So every time I look into your eyes, it’s torture. It torments me because I never wanted to be like you. Monster…why do you make me shoulder all the blame for what you’ve done?
So ever since then I’ve worked shifts of broken promises and contracts with strangers trying to send you back to where you came from. But even if I succeeded…another one would just take your place. Because the world is full of monsters like you.