Monster under the Bed

“I can’t sleep”

Standing in the doorway with her pink teddy bear, Jonathan’s sister rubs her eyes.

Sitting on the plain burgundy sofa, Jonathan’s mom pauses mid-sip, putting her glass of sauvignon down with a clink. “It’s okay, darling. Just put on an audiobook.”

Their dad not even listening, instead highly invested in his online shopping, Jonathan fiddling with the ropes of his jumper, Abigail’s gaze drifts past all of them and lands on Rafaela, searching, almost pleading. Rafaela freezes. She’s not used to that look, especially by a child.

“Darling, it’s all right. There is nothing to worry. Just try to sleep again. Trust me, before you know it, you will wake up.”, their mother repeats and finally looks back at the television, where the next act is now ready to take the stage.

“But there is a monster under my bed.” Abigail’s gaze is still locked on Rafaela, so she tries an encouraging smile, while probably failing.

“There are no monsters.”, Jonathan mutters, triumphant as the hoodie rope disappears into the other side of the hem.

“Let me take a look.” With one big step, Rafaela gets up, taking one last look at the room – the family arranged like furniture, each absorbed in their own distraction, not even trying to look at their daughter or sister. “Show me where your room is.”

What is there to lose? She’s had enough of her boyfriend’s family making wine-soaked comments about the singers’ outfits on television as well as she had enough of the suffocating politeness in this household.

So, she follows little Abigail into her room upstairs.

Apparently, it’s right next to Jonathan’s. Well, he could have told her. These walls didn’t look too soundproof. Anyway, Abigail seems to trust her well enough.

Her room is illuminated by a small cloud lamp with a smiley face on her night stand. Posters of celebrities, which Rafaela never even heard of, plaster the wall.

“That’s Jennifer Lawrence over there.”, Abigail comments on her looking at one specific poster for long. “She played the main character from the Hunger Games.”

“Yes, I’ve seen that film.”

“You have?” Abigail sounds exited now.

“Of course, I did. I wanted to shoot an arrow just like her, but when I took courses I failed miserably.”

Courses was a strong bending of the truth. A friend’s mother was kind of into archery and showed her some basics. Affording courses was never possible for Rafaela. Still, she wouldn’t admit that in front of the child, where she knew, that her parents had enough resources to send her into archery school if she wanted.

“What did you mean when you talked about the monster?” Back to business.

“It’s always there.” Crawling back into bed, Abigail shrugs. “I don’t dare look at it.”

“So, should I take a look?” A small nod.

But just as Rafaela expected, the place underneath the bed is empty. Only some dirt had collected there, right next to something that looks like a piece of paper.

“There is nothing her, Abigail. Only this –“

She pulls out the paper and reveales a class test. With a red marker, an F bleeds across the top corner.

“It’s my secret.”

“Oh no, Abigail, that’s fine.” Tears fall down from her eyes and she hugs her teddy bear even harder.

“Don’t tell mom and dad.”

“I won’t”, she whisperes. “But is this the monster you were talking about?”

Abigail shakes her head. “The monster likes my test, so I gave it to him.”

“You gave it to him?” Well, that explained why it lay under the bed.

“The monster likes it when we pretend.”

“When you pretend?” It doesn’t really make sense for Rafaela. Still, uneasiness settles between her intestines.

Shaking, Abigail starts to cry again. Rafaela moves to her bed and sits down on the blanket, hugging her boyfriend’s sister.

“Be good. Don’t be too loud. Keep your voice down. Don’t make dad tired. Don’t make mommy cry. It’s always the same.”

“Who says that to you?”

“The whispers.”

“The whispers?”

“They come when the house gets empty. When at night the room lays still. You can still hear mom and dad argue, with their voices down, but it doesn’t change a thing.”

Rafaela sits beside her on the bed, hugging her tightly. The child shakes in her arms, heartbreakingly fragile.

It’s probably the first time Rafaela has hugged a child, maybe the first time Rafaela hugged somebody for a long time. Slowly, she pats Abigail’s head, curling her blonde hair between her fingers.

“It must be pretty difficult to pretend so much.”

Abigail’s crying suddenly stops as if someone pressed pause. “Yes, it is. But it’s all I can do.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Maybe this word was reserved for another family member, but for Rafaela it was fitting in this moment. Abigail is her sweetheart. No way someone must endure to keep their family content.

“I can not let mom and dad down. They struggle with their clients, with their time and especially with their relationship. I can not be the next one to hurt them.”

“Is this what the monster tells you.”

Abigail nods and fumbles for a tissue, which she apparently keeps in her pocket. Seems not to be the first time she cried at night.

“It wants me to behave. To be just like him.” Her hand points at the wall next to them. Jonathan’s room.

Jonathan, who behaves.

Jonathan, who’s nice.

Jonathan, the perfect son. A football player, straight-A student, everyone’s friend. Rafaela’s smile twists without her meaning to. Abigail notices. “I didn’t want to say something negative about him.”, she adds.

“No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thoughts. You are right, sweetheart. But I can promise you that Jonathan has a monster too.”

“You think so?” Her eyes look up – wet and searching for her chance to not be alone with her inner demons.

“Monsters don’t come when you are not perfect. They come when parents start pretending.”

Abigail’s eyes widen. “You mean…my parents?”

“I do.”

“But they don’t pretend. They do everything to be good parents.”

“Trying hard isn’t the same as being honest.” Rafaela says gently. “Do they ever talk openly about their problems? Or do they hide behind their bedroom door.”

Carefully, Abigail nods. “They do hide sometimes.”

“So they have a monster too.” Rafaela says. “And they grapple with it. Probably their monster tells them to behave in front of their children.”

“I don’t want them to do that.”

“Yes, I understand that.”

“They always smile so much. Drink too much. Say that everything is fine, although their faces are so wrong.”

With one sentence, the girl has just named everything Rafaela tried not to see all evening.

“Promise me one thing, little girl.” Rafaela whispers. “Don’t grow up doing the same.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“Show them this test, tell them how you feel and -.”

But the words die in her throat.

Because she hears the hypocrisy in them.

Since when it comes down to honesty, she never told anyone how she felt.

Especially not this one person sitting in his parents’ living room.

She never felt ready to confront her own monster.

Her story resonated with Abigail’s a little too much.

“Why do you know how the monster works so well?”

An innocent question, but such a devastating one.

“I have a monster myself.”, she says.

“You?” Abigail looks at her with round eyes. “But you’re not pretending… are you?”

“I’m not.” Rafaela can feel the girl soften in her arms, a tiny exhale of relief. “Not with you. That’s why I’m telling you this.”

“But with Johnny.” Not a question. Just a statement.

Rafaela blinks. “How do you know?”

Abigail just shrugs, as if the truth of adults was always her task to decode.

“Did Jonathan ever tell you how me met?”

“No, he didn’t. I just know that it was lab course.” Before Rafaela can explain, Abigail adds: “As it is always with Johnny. Lab or football.”

“I feel you, Abigail.” She let out a breath that’s half a laugh and half a sigh. “I know that Jonathan can be hard with his priorities.” She searches for the right words. “But the way he talks about you, I know that he loves you very, very much.”

Abigail presses the tissue to her nose again. “I just miss him so often.”

“He misses you too.” Rafaela whispers. “Be sure of that.”

Abigail sniffles. “So how did you too meet?”

Rafaela’s lips turned into a calm smile. This was one of her favourite stories to tell.

“You have to know that I’m a little sensitive when it comes to blood. Yep, maybe not the best conditions for being a lab assistant. So that day we were about to operate on a chicken liver. And not only did I despise that for ethical reasons, but I could just not stand looking at it. It all seemed so fleshy. And that’s when I fainted.”

“He caught you?” Abigail’s voice jumps an octave, thrilled.

It does sound like a fairy tale.

“He did. And it all just appeared to me. A handsome boy. A football player. The one who owned the room at parties. And now he also stabilized me when I was weak. It felt like a Cinderella moment.”

“That’s how I imagined it must be.”

“But that’s bullshit.” Rafaela winces. “Sorry, your parents probably won’t like that kind of language.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard what they say when they’re alone.”

Rafaela snorts softly.

“Anyways, there are no perfect guys. No perfect people whatsoever. And that’s right. I’m not perfect, Johnny’s not perfect and you are not perfect. Neither your parents.”

“Does the monster want me to be perfect?”

“Yes, it does. But you know what helps? Be the opposite. You may not scare a monster away, but you can show it that there is nothing of interest for it. So very soon it will just move away.”

“You’re smart, Rafaela.”

“You are smart, Abigail.”

“Why don’t you show your monster that there is nothing to get?”

“I don’t know. It’s not easy. And it won’t be easy for you. Still, I will try my best and talk to Johnny.” Rafaela swallows. “You know I had a bad start with you, with his family. I held my expectations so high, I now get upset that he’s twiddling with his hoodie rope.”

“He does that every time.” Abigail giggles.

“And that your mom is drinking so much wine. But you know what? It’s okay. You all are okay. And I love Johnny. It’s not that. I just have to find the courage to speak to him.”

“I love you, Rafaela.”

“And I love you.” Rafaela whispers. “Now that you’re in bed, you can show the monster that you are not its enemy.

Abigail slides under the blanket, curling around her teddy bear. “Sleep well.”

“You sleep well.” Rafaela answers, turning off the cloud lamp.

She descends the stairs quietly, feeling the weight of the night settle into her bones. But also, something else that’s stirring inside her. A truth she can no longer ignore.

“All right?” Jonathan asks, looking up. He’s the only one of the family still awake, his beer now emptied.

Rafaela studies him – the boy who caught her when she lost balance, the boy who tries so hard to be good he forgets to be real, the boy who doesn’t know his sister cries herself awake at night.

“The monster got tired.”, she answers, her voice a little steadier than she’s used to.

Jonathan frowns, sensing the shift.

Rafaela sits down beside him, close enough that their shoulders touch.

“We need to talk.” And for the first time all evening, someone in this house finally listens.