Under the Bed
Prompt: 1984
It was bedtime, Maggie’s least favorite time of all. Not only did she have to brush her teeth, but she had to go into her bedroom alone. Of course, she wasn’t alone. That’s why she dreaded it most of all; there was a monster under Maggie’s bed.
The door to her room stood wide, and she stared into the dark. It wasn’t too dark at all, with her nightlight glowing in the corner, and light from the neighborhood peeking in around the edges of her polka-dotted curtains. But it was dark enough for a monster to lurk in the shadow under her bed. She knew it was there, she could feel it staring back at her. Maggie stared back defiantly, trying to will the monster to see she wasn’t afraid.
She was, though. Terrified. Deep in the pit of her stomach. Just like she was every night.
Maggie backed away from the door into the hallway and took a deep breath. Without warning, she dashed, building up speed in the hall until she hit the cool wooden floor of her bedroom. Then she took carefully measured bounds - 1, 2, 3 - and after the third she leapt through the air from several feet away and landed on her mattress with a soft creak and a thud as the bedframe rapped against the wall.
She exhaled her breath, relieved. It hadn’t gotten her. Everyone knows they get your ankles if you get too close to the edge. She lay down, heart pounding, and covered herself up, being careful that no toes or elbows got too close to the edge of her twin-sized bedframe.
Maggie steadied her breathing and stared up at the ceiling before taking measure of the room. Closet door closed - check. Nightlight on - check. Stuffed animals accounted for - check. Everything seemed in order.
She heard footsteps creaking in the hallway and looked toward the door expectantly as her dad’s silhouette appeared and tapped his knuckles against the doorframe. “You ready for bed, kiddo?”
“Yep.”
“You brushed your teeth and gave your mom a kiss goodnight?”
“Yep.”
Dad smiled. “Okay, time to check for monsters, then.”
Maggie smiled. She loved this ritual, even though she knew it did no good. Monsters were invisible to adults. And monsters didn’t want to eat adults, because they were too big and not as tender. Plus, they would put up a much bigger fight. Dad opened up Maggie’s closet door and poked his head inside. “No monsters in here!” He called back to her. She nodded as he re-closed the closet door.
Then Dad got down on his hands and knees and shined his cell phone flashlight under the bed. “No monsters under here either! All safe!”
Maggie smiled. “Thanks Dad. That makes me feel better.” And it did.
Dad looked at her pensively, then sat down beside her. The mattress creaked, and Maggie allowed herself to roll closer to him like a weight on a trampoline. “Mags, you know monsters aren’t real, right? This is just a silly game we play at night.”
“Yeah, I know.” She lied.
He seemed to know she was lying. Like he always did. “And besides…even if monsters were real, they’d be friendly, like the ones on Sesame Street or Monsters Inc.” He said matter-of-factly.
Maggie had never considered this before. It made sense that there would be good monsters, after all. He could tell she was mulling it over. “Need anything before you go to sleep? A glass of water?” She shook her head. “Alrighty then. Goodnight, sweetie. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” He leaned over to kiss her goodnight and stood up to leave the room, closing the bedroom door gently behind him as he left.
Maggie smiled as she closed her eyes. Everyone knew bedbugs weren’t real.
