The Monster in the Corner

The man, trembling in anguish, sat up in bed. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked left and right, searching desperately for a sign that it was just a dream. But the dream was nothing more than what he saw through his own eyes at that very moment. In the corner of his silent room a dark shadow stood, waiting, watching. The shadow made everything seem empty, as if something that he couldn’t describe was missing. So the man waited until his room no longer felt empty - until the shadow was gone.

One hour passed, then another, then another. Eventually, the sun rose above the mighty tree in his backyard; light shone into the house, and the monster vanished. One moment it was there. The next it was gone, yet the room still felt as hollow as before. The man went to work as usual, trying not to think of the shadow that had haunted him for so many nights. Then he would go back to bed just to see it again. 

The monster was very consistent. Night after night the man would wake up, tears streaming down his face, and he would wait for hours every morning, filled with grief, watching the monster in the corner. As winter came it would stay longer. Many hours would pass before the monster would finally vanish out the window when the sun brightened the dark room. 

The room slowly became colder and darker as the monster extracted every last bit of hope left in him. Everything else in his life became subordinate to the monster. His waking moments were filled with horror fantasies of this monster feeding on the only memories that brought him joy.

The monster began to persuade the man, trying to get the man to give up control and let the shadow take over. Night after night the monster coaxed him to just let go, and eventually, he broke. He lifted his head off the pillow and looked into the shadow. Unable to stop himself, he spoke to the monster.

“You’ve watched me every night since she died. Why?” 

Likewise, you’ve watched me every night since she died. It’s no different.

“All you did was ruin my life!” 

I’m only what you turned me into. Can’t you see that I'm your creation?

“You’ve done what you came to do so just leave already.” 

If I could leave your mind then I wouldn’t be here.

Then it vanished. The sun rose above the tree and he was back to the same realization that life must go on. Except he did not go to work that day, for he would not let the monster leave so quickly. The man lay in bed for hours trying to go to sleep, with the dim notion that he would be waking up sooner than he wanted. 

The man finally fell asleep, but woke up almost instantly to the sound of the monster.

What keeps you alive if you so desperately want to fall asleep?

“My room feels empty, incomplete. It’ll never be completed until you leave me alone. You being here doesn’t change the fact that my daughter’s dead! So if I never get to fall asleep then you won’t either.”

If only it were that simple. I won’t ever die… I can’t ever die as long as you're awake. Just go to sleep; let me take control and all of this grief will be over. You’ll never have to wake again.

“If I fall asleep, will you still be here, waiting and watching in a dark corner every night? What if I don’t want you to leave?”

Everything must leave in due time. Nothing lasts forever.

“I don’t want to fall asleep! You are the one thing that keeps me going because I know you’ll be there every night. If I go to sleep then you’ll go too and I can’t let that happen! Please tell me that you will stay. If I can’t have anything, then I at least have you. Promise me that. Please.”

Just then the sun came over the familiar tree and brightness filled the room. The monster left through the window, vanishing from sight, and every ounce of comfort still in the man’s mind left with it. The man sat on his bed. Weeping, tears soaking his clothes and his pillow. 

The man searched through the room for anything to bring him comfort. He opened a dresser drawer and found stacks of photos of his daughter. He flipped through all of them, reliving memories of days in the park, and days together as a family. He remembered when she would laugh and play in the tall grass of their front yard, and how the man and her would run around with kites. One picture showed his stunning wife with her hand intertwined in his, and their daughter sitting in the flowers at their feet. A hopeful memory shone through the darkness of the grief.

Then he flipped to a photo of his daughter in the hospital. Her body frail and her beautiful hair gone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, but she still smiled through the pain. He could feel the cold air of the hospital and remembered the sad grief that struck him when the doctors said that his daughter may not survive.

After seeing that photo he sobbed, knowing that he would never see her again, because everyone had to leave eventually, and soon he would do the same.

The man had no choice but to go to sleep. He willed himself to go against the instinct to survive, and gave in to the shadow. He would see it one last time. The thought of seeing the monster, and hearing its comforting voice, gave him one last glimmer of hope. He closed his eyes and let the darkness of night sweep over him. 

The man shot up out of bed when he heard the deep, intense sound of thunder rumbling above. He looked outside and saw a bright flash as lightning struck the tree that stood in his backyard. Flames began to dance up the trunk of the tree, and as branches fell, flames splashed onto the house.

Hoping for any sign of comfort or help, the man looked into the all too familiar corner, looking for any trace of the monster. The last branch of the tree, still standing through the flames, fell down, and the last of the monster dashed out the window and fell with it.

Tears filled his eyes. Moments of his daughter playing in his head sparkled in his memory, like bright flashes of light amidst a dark storm. With everything he had left in him, he cried out to the monster. “Don’t let me be alone!” Smoke billowed into the room, and the last thing the man heard was the monster’s voice cut through the noise.

It is time to sleep.