“Mom, I think there’s monsters underneath my bed”.

“Sweetie go to sleep, it’s all in your head”.

Deep down, I think I knew they were just a figment of my imagination.

Yet, my body trembled at the sight of darkness.

The unknown.

What I couldn’t see, comprehend, or understand shook every fiber of my being.

And if you would’ve asked me what the monsters looked like, I couldn’t tell you.

The darkness was a feeling.

A feeling that kept me up at night.

Terrified, shaking, unearthed by this idea that I will be taken.

As I got older, those monsters bore faces, spoke words and showed up in the most unusual places.

A friend with a warped sense of identity.

Traumatizing memories.

Thoughts consuming every single part of me.

The darkness became my new reality.

As I long for the innocent, childhood version of me, when the darkness hid the monsters blissfully.

 

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