By Renée, for “Dream” theme
a monster crawls out of a closet.
a monster crawls out from under the bed.
the door, the shadow, the walls.
a child can feel the death lurking.
she stays as still as she can.
the sky from outside gets lighter.
she collapses finally into sleep.
When I was little I didn’t believe in monsters or ghosts until bedtime came. I would lie in my bed and fall asleep, but sometime during the night, I would wake up and anything could happen. Monsters, ethereal pitch-black shadows with skeletal hands, haunted me.
a feeling of falling.
way too real of a feeling.
her legs are unsupported,
air rushes past,
her lungs gasping for breath.
people she loves look on.
they let her fall.
she stays silent.
not asking them for help.
instead, she weeps.
Then during my middle-school years, my monsters became less shadowy. They stopped waiting for me to wake up and infiltrated my deepest fears. They knocked me over and tested me. And I failed.
the monster.
it creeps up.
not as slow as one would like.
she doesn’t fight it tonight.
not tonight.
it confirms her deepest fears.
it embraces her, swallowing her into the darkness,
she emerges only in the morning.
As I got older the monsters didn’t come as often, but when they did, they came with a vengeance. I fought hard some days, others… not so much. Between the medication and worry, some nights I just lay there, yearning for rest, but it waited for me. So I just let it consume me.
a black hole.
darkness, as vast but as absolute as the ones from childhood.
this time it had grown.
it threatened her but,
it wanted everything.
it was the end.
Dreamer Editor: Doreen Yuan
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