Deep inside he knew what had woke him up, and caused that cold sweat materialize on his forehead. He held his breath and listened. The only thing he could hear, out of the compact darkness, was his heart beating, hard and fast. Once again he heard the razor-sharp shriek, striking against the inside of his ears and he closed his eyes so hard, it almost hurt.
Even though he hadn’t heard that sound for years, he knew it far too well.
In the past, it would make him squirm in fear, screaming for his mother, who would come rushing to his aid, embracing him in her protecting bosom. For a short moment, he cursed her and the day she died, leaving him all alone in dark.
He heard something shamble under his bed. By the sounds, he reckon that it was something big and heavy, making its way to the edge of the bed. His chest burned of fear and with a grimace, he tossed his head to the side, as he heard it slowly crawling out.
The sounds of the thing’s damp breathing came closer, with a strange odor that smelled like a mix of something sweaty and rotten. He wanted to move his body, jumping out of the bed and just keep running, but it was paralyzed. A tear slowly squeezed its way from one of his eyelids, and tumbled down his cheek.
The dampness of the rattle breathing, hit the surface of his sweaty face. He knew that this was it; his life would come to a much premature ending.
A sore and monotone voice broke the trembling silence.
“Shh, listen… Your mother has a message for you… She is sorry for not believing you, when you cried out that there was a monster under your bed, when you were a kid… But she believes it now…”
He gasped and tried to comprehend what the voice just told him. Even though he was afraid, hearing that his mother gave him justice, made him feel comfortable. His body started to loosen up and the worse fear started to rinse off.
“She also wished that you could have a blistering birthday tomorrow, but… since monsters are real…”
A short, grueling scream echoed out from his bedroom and further into the dark night.
copyright © 2010 by Ken Bergman