The British Monster Under the Bed

“Mom?” Rosie said.

“Yes?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Rosie’s mother placed her hands on her hips. “I just tucked you in!”

“Okay… I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Why’s that?” She came closer, brushing Rosie’s soft, tangled hair

Rosie sat up in bed and whispered, “The monster under my bed.”

“But I sprayed the monster spray.” The mother pointed to the bottle of Windex on the nightstand, relabeled “BED MONSTER-PROOF SPRAY” and secretly only filled with water.

“The spray doesn’t work,” Rosie whispered again.

“Why are whispering?” The mother whispered back.

“So the monster doesn’t hear us plotting.”

“Plotting? Where’d you here that word?”

“I’m five! I know a lot of words!”

“Oh? How many?”

Rosie sized it roughly with the length of her arms. “This many.”

“Wow!” the mother said quietly.

“But the monster knows more words,” Rosie said. “Like arithmetic.”

“Okay, I don’t know where you learned that word. Goodnight, my Rose.”

“But what about the monster?”

“You can beat it up if it tries coming out. Goodnight.” And the mother closed the door, leaving Rosie in the darkness.

Rosie laid upside down so she was facing to the space under her bed, which was dark and mysterious.

“You here that, monster? You can’t give me math lessons today!”

“Why not?” asked the monster in it’s fine British accent.

“Otherwise I’ll beat you up!”

“Beating people up isn’t very nice, Rosie.”

“But my mom said I could.”

“Well you’re mother doesn’t believe in me. If she knew I was real, she would tell you otherwise.”

Rosie grabbed the spray bottle that laid on her nightstand and sprayed it under the bed.

“Also, splashing monsters with water isn’t very nice,” the monster said.

“It’s not water, it’s monster spray!”

Rosie sprayed some more.

“No, it’s water, and it’s very annoying. You mother already does it enough.

Rosie sprayed once more, and then put the bottle back on her nightstand, and then re-tucked herself into bed.

“What do you want to learn about tonight, if it’s not arithmetic?”

“I don’t want to learn!”

“But you’re learning more than anyone else in your grade. You could go on to first grade, easily, if you wanted to.”

“I want to sleep!”

The bedroom door opened, and light peaked through the room, and Rosie saw her dad in the doorway.

“Rosie, who are you talking to?”

“The monster under my bed!”

“Okay, look, I’ll just…” the father went over to the nightstand, picked up the spray bottle, and sprayed it under the bed. “Better?”

“No, the monster said that’s just water.”

The father blinked and took a deep breath, and then acted, “Oh no, you’re totally right, this is just water! I forgot to put the monster potion in there! Hang on just a moment.”

Rosie’s father left the room, and came back a minute later with the monster spray bottle filled with purple liquid. He sprayed it under the bed once. “There you go.”

“Thanks, dad,” Rosie said.

“No problem. Have a good sleep, Rose.”

The father kissed his daughter on the forehead, and then exited the room, leaving Rose alone with the monster once again.

“He didn’t add monster potion,” the monster said. “That’s purple food coloring.”

“That’s what you would say!” Rosie said, spraying the monster some more.

“Yeah, because that is what I said.”

“But that’s not what I said, so you said it.”

“I know, that’s what I said.”

“So you admit it!”

“I already have!”

“Liar!”

“Look, Rosie, I expected you to be smarter than this, with all these lessons I’ve been giving you. Maybe I need to teach you some debate tactics.”

“What’s debate?”

“It’s arguing, but better.”

“What’s squabbling?”

“Squabbling is when you disagree with another person, so you state you own opinion and try to convince them that it is correct.”

Rosie blinked. “I don’t understand a lot of those words.

The door opened once more, this time Rosie’s mother again. “Rosie! We still hear your voice from the other room!”

“I’m sorry. It’s just the monster. Dad put the monster potion into the bottle, but the monster said it was just food coloring.”

Rosie’s mother slapped her forehead. “That idiot!”

“The monster?”

“No, your father! You have white carpet!”

Rosie’s father now came to the doorway. “What’d I do?”

“Something stupid.”

“Sounds like me.”

“Rosie, please go to sleep,” her mother said. “Or at least stay quiet.”

“Okay, mom.”

The door closed, and Rosie was engulfed in the darkness once again.

“Your mother’s right,” the monster said. “There is a purple stain down here.”

“Sh,” Rosie said. “We’re supposed to be quiet.”

“I don’t have to be,” the monster said.

“Why?’ Rosie whispered.

“You’re parents can’t hear me.”

Rosie grabbed the spray once again and sprayed the monster with it.

“You’re making the stain worse!”

“Yeah, well, its already there.”

“You are one interesting girl.”

There was a moment of pause. Rosie curled herself in her blankets.

“Monster?”

“Hm.”

“Are you ever going to leave me alone?”

“I suspect when your older, you’ll no longer hear me.”

“Aww,” Rosie said, disappointed.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re good to have around.”

“But I thought I annoyed you.”

“No, no, I annoy you.”

“Oh?”

“I spray you with the spray.”

“This is true.”

“I keep you up at night.”

“Actually, I sleep during the day.”

“Oh. Well, any way, your good to have for the first ten minutes.”

“Well, we’re passed ten minutes by now.”

“So we should both sleep!” Rosie said. And then remembered she had to be quiet.

“I’m not tired at all,” The monster said. “It’s why I enjoy our arithmetic lessons.”

Rosie frowned. Will she ever be able to sleep? Then she looked at her nightstand, and saw the Rubik’s cube placed there. She took it, and scrambled it up.

“What are you doing?” The monster asked.

“A debate!” Rosie said proudly.

“I think the word you looking for is compromise.”

Rosie threw the Rubik’s cube under the bed. “When you solve that, you can speak to me again.”

“Easy,” The monster said.

Rosie tucked herself back in bed and fell asleep.

The monster never kept her up again.