The Monster Under the Bed
by Kelly McDonald
The door bursts open letting the golden light from the hallway spill across the room. Mum and Dad’s silhouette’s fill the door frame. Dad is working his ninja poses. He doesn't actually know any ninja, or kung fu, or any type of self-defence, but you wouldn't know it as he bounds about, arms swinging and feet kicking.
It is Mum who turns the light on, and then they are both looking at me.
“What? What's wrong? Where is the robber?” says Dad, spinning and slicing the air around him into uppercuts that would make Bruce Lee proud.
Mum checks the window. It’s closed and locked. My room is on the second floor, so unless it was Spider man attacking, I am pretty safe from being abducted out my bedroom window.
My breath is still coming in gasps. I spit out the words in a rush.
“The monster was under my bed again.”
Dad’s shoulders relax, his arms slump to his sides. Both he and Mum sit on my bed, but it's not really a sit, it’s more of a plonk. Disappointment and defeat lie in every line of their postures.
“Not this again…” begins Mum. Dad takes over.
“Alex you are nearly eleven years old. There is no such thing as monsters. You know this…” They begin playing tag, one finishing up where the other started.
“Do we need to go see a Doctor?”
“Are you in trouble at school, is that what it is honey? Are you being bullied?” I roll my eyes.
“It might be puberty Alex, are you getting hairs... you know…?”
“Jill!” Dad and I both stare at her in embarrassment,
“Well, Rick, he is nearly eleven, and you just heard his voice squeak. That is another symptom…”
Every one was looking in different directions, clearing throats, and turning red.
“There is nothing going on at school Mum,” I whisper. “I heard it, and then felt the sheets move. It was here.”