Night Light
Mommy told me the monsters in my closet aren’t real.
I promise I believe her. Really, I do.
Most nights I’m still awake when she gets home from work, or sometimes it’s even later when she says she needs to have a night to treat herself and sometimes comes home talking loud with a friend who also talks loud. I make sure to be in bed as soon as I hear her car coming in though because one time when I didn’t she yelled at me in the kitchen and the tall man who was with her ran to the bathroom and didn’t come out while I was in the kitchen but I’m pretty sure he came out as soon as Mommy tucked me in. Her breath smelled funny that night.
Sometimes I think the monsters in my closet are growing.
Mommy promised me they aren’t real, and I believe her.
She told me they aren’t real but she got me a Buzz Lightyear night light which I guess is all right even though it’s on the other side of the room from the closet and the light keeps me up at night even though I’m supposed to be sleeping.
Sometimes I hear scraping on the inside of the closet like maybe sharp nails or claws on the wood and Mommy tells me it’s just the sound of the air conditioner coming on. But then I hear it when the air conditioner is already on and Mommy tells me it’s just the refrigerator running. But then I tell her it doesn’t sound anything like the refrigerator running and then Mommy gets angry and says I’m a bad boy for telling nasty lies.
But I think I do hear the scraping and scratching on the closet door and I think I’m not telling lies I don’t know.
But then I see how upset Mommy is and how much I hurt her by telling her about the monster in my closet and it makes me feel like there’s a big empty hurt in my stomach and in my heart. Because sometimes I think she’s about to start crying and I don’t want to make Mommy cry I want her to be proud of me and love me like she does when she’s happy and she calls me her big little man. So then I say I made up the story about the monsters in my closet to scare her and that doesn’t feel good either but it feels better than it would feel if she started crying.
Sometimes the monsters in my closet don’t just scratch at the door. Sometimes I hear them growling and whispering almost like words.
Mommy would think I didn’t want to go to sleep if she knew how I stayed awake till she got home but really it’s because I don’t want to hear the scratching and the scraping and the almost words and sometimes I feel breathing on my neck and it makes me go stiff and quiet with all the hairs on my neck and arms standing up like the needles doctors use when they give you shots. And I shut my eyes real tight and sometimes I think maybe I might have felt something icy and sludgy touch my leg and I wonder what the Buzz Lightyear night light would say if he could talk and if he’s scared of what he sees.
Mommy told me she would never ever hit me.
When I go to bed as soon as I hear Mommy’s car it still takes me a long time to get to sleep. I don’t know why Mommy works so late at night but the first thing she does is slip a lot of bills into the secret box she keeps under the couch where she thinks I don’t know about it but I do know about it. She told me her job is answering the phone when people need help and call the police and I believe her but I haven’t asked her why the first thing she does when she goes home is putting money in her secret money box under the couch.
The man who hid in the bathroom didn’t hit me either I promise.
When I hear the scratching from the closet I remember Mommy told me the monsters aren’t real. When I hear the growls from the closet I remember Mommy bought me the Buzz Lightyear night light even though she said the monsters aren’t real. When I hear almost words coming from the closet I remember it’s just the refrigerator. When I feel the cold slimy on my thigh I remember how good I feel when Mommy loves me and tells me I’m her big little boy.
Mommy told me the monsters in my closet aren’t real.