He Was Always There

I waited in bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. Where was he? He was supposed to be here minutes ago! I knew by then that he wasn't the most punctual guy ever, but couldn't he at least have tried! I started clawing the walls impatiently, "That ought to bring him out" I thought smugly.

I waited.

Finally! I heard some scratching, clawing noises from underneath my bed. He pulled himself out from under there, the floorboards groaning under his tremendous weight. He looked at me seriously, as though he was asking "Are we doing this charade again?"

My monster was my friend. He wasn't scary. He only pretended to fulfill my childhood rite of passage (namely, having nightmares from a monster) and to not deprive me of monster-based nightmares. He looked old. I could tell by the defeated way he carried himself, the sleepy look of his eyes, his hunched-over posture, and his tired voice. I knew he had seen a lot of children grow up and leave him behind. I knew I was his last child, the last one he would ever scare.

He smiled at me as I told him about my day, about who bullied me, about what teachers wronged me. Over the years, he stopped coming to scare me, but rather to horrify the people who hurt me. I watched as he slunk into the shadows. He was leaving me to bring me my silent justice, he was my vigilante of the night.

He came back later. Lulled me to sleep with stories about children running right into a monster's trap and a girl who got beheaded on the grounds of this house and other such gruesome things so that I could have nightmares that night.

He was my only real friend, my friend of the darkness who showed himself when no one else was around. He knew and I knew that there was not a lot of time left before I fully stopped believing in monsters. There was only a little while longer until I stopped seeing him. When I grew up, he would have done his final job. He would finally rest. For then though, he would have to settle with telling a little girl stories.

My monster had a name. I couldn't remember when I thought of it, or if this was even it. I knew though that it wasn't scary or special like him. It was an ordinary name. To me, my monster was just Jeb. It was a name unfitting of his wonder. But I was young when I first met him, young and foolish. Still scared of him, unaware he was my terrifying guardian angel. He would come out from underneath my bed, comforting me about my day. Tell me it was all okay. Back then, he didn't tell me scary stories. He would come out to make me smile and leave when I fell asleep.

One night, Jeb told me that a monster looked different based on the kid. He said that no matter what he looked like to me, for another kid he would look like something else entirely. His image was a kid's darkest fear. He told me that when I was grown up, I would forget about him. Not all at once though, it would happen slowly, quietly. One day, I would forget what he looked like, another day his name, another day I would forget his deep rumbling voice. I panicked that night, I had my worst nightmares then. I didn't want to forget Jeb. I saw images of Jeb fading away to dust in front of my eyes. I saw images of Jeb telling me goodbye.

Around a week after that, Jeb stopped coming every night. He came once and told me one thing.

"You don't need a monster anymore."

That was it. The next night, Jeb wasn't there, nor the night after that. But I fell asleep anyway. Content with the belief Jeb was still there. That he was still my night vigilante. I would think of the stories Jeb would tell me on repeat, night after night. Stories I loved so much I held them to my heart. I would think of his stories about past children, ghosts, and beheadings.

It happened so slowly, but so quickly. Before I knew it had happened, I stopped associating the stories with Jeb. I forgot his deep rumbling voice, his face, his name. I forgot Jeb. I began to also forget his stories piece by piece. I couldn't stop it. I forgot Jeb and his stories.

I began to stop fearing the darkness. I feared what stood in the light. The fear of losing someone, the fear of not being worthy and all the others that plague mankind. There was nothing to fear in the darkness, it was what we so gladly welcomed that brought the most danger.

One night I lay in bed. It was cold and the shadows were long and dark. Funny, that reminded me of someone I had forgotten long ago. But, for the life of me, I couldn't remember who. I stayed awake restless.

"I can't sleep," I whispered.

But no one answered.

EPILOGUE

I stood in the corner of my room. It was a maze of packed boxes and trinkets that had managed to find their way into my room. One thing felt off though, it was my bed. It had been in that corner so long it was practically immovable but that was not what was wrong. There was something pulling me to that corner. To the foot of my bed.

It wasn't a physical pull, like a hand dragging me back. It was more psychological, like a repressed memory waiting there. Waiting for me to find it. I went over and stood there, nothing happened. Something told me to be patient until nightfall.

I spent the rest of the day doing menial tasks like cleaning out the silly trinkets and moving boxes around. I was waiting until nightfall. My mind kept on wandering back to that moment by the bed while I ate lunch, and dinner. Finally, it was time to sleep.

I waited in bed as nothing happened. That was when I thought to scratch the walls with my nails. It was a childhood habit I picked up from somewhere. I kept on scratching the walls waiting for something to happen.

Creak!

Groan!

A huge creature crawled out from under my bed. The floorboards were bending under his enormous weight. I looked at him silently as I was filled with an overwhelming need to scream. I couldn't though. Even while my primal instincts were screaming I couldn't look away. Maybe it was his deep voice that soothed me. Maybe it was the feeling of safety he gave off. My head started hurting, a throbbing pain pulsing through my skull.

The memories came rushing back! Bullies shrinking away from me the next day! Teachers would suddenly let me run errands and pick me to answer questions! Nightmares that I would think of fondly rather than being scared of. A huge creature with eyes like moons and a voice like thunder. JEB!

I leapt out of bed and hugged him, burying my face in the soft yet dusty fur of his. He hugged me back and I could feel the affection flowing between us. Between monster and kid. He pulled apart and looked at me with a smile. One filled with sad love. He was finally leaving. I was finally leaving. We needed to let the past go.

"Luna, goodbye," he said.

"I don't want you to leave though! I only just remembered you! We have so much to catch up on!" I sounded whiny.

"This has been long overdue Luna, you need to let me go so you can move on," he said.

I looked at him one last time. I was fully committing Jeb to memory.

"Can you tell me one more story?" I said, the words feeling salty and small. I knew these words would be some of the last I would say to my childhood friend. I clambered into the bed and waited for the story—patiently for once in my life.

He sighed, then sat cross-legged. I waited for him to start, I was comfortably tucked underneath my covers and was ready to sleep better than I ever had in years. He took his time to think, then he began.

He told me a wonderfully weaved tale. It was about a girl stranded on an island. She made friends with the monsters who lived there and they taught her how to survive. One day, 'rescuers' came to the island to 'save' her. But the monsters had taught her well. The 'rescuers' were actually dangerous. They wanted her as a slave to an evil king. The girl fought valiantly and ghosts from other children they had trapped there to force them into submission arrived. The ghosts didn't want another good soul to be trapped in the heartless island. Alongside the monsters, they fought.

I fell asleep around this part of the tale. When I woke up, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. And Jeb was gone. I smiled though. Even though he had to leave, he had filled me with better times and memories.

I was finally at peace with the world.

"Thank you, Jeb." I said. This time I didn't need an answer.