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Weekly Contest #274
I miss the child I used to be. He was tender, softer than the other boys, but blooming with joy. I would do anything to be him again. Now, I am just a shackled bolt on my closet monster’s door.In the 5th grade I saw him for the first time: my childhood monster. He was lurking just out of reach in the school coat closet. Darkness obscured everything but his eyes. Those eyes were a pale glowing purple, and they smiled as if he knew me. The shadowy corner where he lurked smelled like dirt and rotting flowers. My monster appeared on the wor...
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