Monster Creative Writing

In my nights you are a monster and in my days you are the same. There are times I can 't tell the nightmare of my reality from the fiction of my nightmares. With aloof ease you crush every ounce of self-worth I have left, failing to disguise how delighted you are to deal your blows. How they are like candy to you, sweet and irresistible.

The monster in the house whispers delightfully in your ear, and as you smile, the same one springs from behind the corner, scaring the life out of you. Assuming the scariness was all in good fun you give the monster a loving smile. Then all of a sudden the monster turns on its loud voice and demeans you, calls you stupid for not being afraid of it. It gets right in your face and you feel its icy breath on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed tight, too afraid to see.

Nothing moves, nothing whispers. The sun shines brightly through the window. But you continue to cautiously look around corners, with your heart pounding in your chest. You are anxious and wish you could leave the house, but you are chained and kept captive by the love that was once there.

And who do you talk to about a monster for goodness sake? Anytime someone’s come to visit, the monster was silent – not a peep. It appears that you live in the perfect house. I truly do believe monsters exist, I just don’t think they are furry and live under my bed or in my closet.

I knew a monster once. In fact, I loved him. You see as a child, I loved my father dearly because in my mind he was everything a child might imagine a father could be. He would sit in my makeshift forts with me, he would dance with me standing on his feet, let me steer the car when my feet still dangled high and he used to sing me to sleep every