Monsters exist. They're real.
Shifting under your bed. Peeking through the crack in the closet door. Watching through the sliver of an opening in your curtains. Waiting for you to leave a window, a door unlocked or open. Timing you to see how long it takes you to get up the stairs after turning the light off, how many steps it takes you to crawl into bed and relax under the safety of your blankets. To see if they can drag you back down those stairs without being seen, if they can latch onto your ankle and drag you under the bed, never to be seen again.
The thought pumps anxiety into your blood, making you run up the stairs faster, giving them a stronger desire for the fear seeped in your bones, in your flesh, in your blood.
Making you plug in nightlights so you know that monster in the corner is only a pile of clothes, but what about the corner you can't see? You can't look at all four at once. But as your eyes are trained on those clothes, the monster in the other corner has it's eyes trained on you. The nightlight letting it see exactly where you are.
Making you pull the sheets over your head, giving the monster an opening. You won't see it coming, you can't give a warning scream to your parents.
Monsters exist. They're real. Inside your head.
ESTÀS LLEGINT
L A M I A
TerrorLamia. An Ancient Greek Myth of a woman who does unspeakable things to children. This is a short story :)) it was going to be normal, but my brain said nO The cover belongs to me :) please dont use it without asking and giving me credit
