Read Recreationally

Monsters

-Based on "I'm Not Scared" by Niccolo Ammaniti-

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As I stood in my kitchen, peeling the potatoes, I couldn't help but feel that I was almost safe.

Almost.

I was alone, encased comfortably in the four walls of our family home, cooking dinner as I often did. The radio was playing softly over the sound of the kitchen peeler scraping away the outer layer of the potatoes as I felt my shoulders finally begin to slowly loosen, dropping the tension that the last few weeks had brought.

When I was younger, I would have these wicked nightmares.
I would wake up in the middle of most nights, my cheeks soaked from tears and my throat raw from screaming.
My bedroom door would slowly swing open, revealing my mother, clearly sleep deprived and exhausted but mainly concerned.
She would sit on the edge of my bed and hold me close to her, gently stroking my hair until I calmed down.
I could hear her soft, nurturing voice whisper in my ear, "It's okay, Teresa. Just breathe," She would tell me.
"Breathe in and out, count to ten,".

I would breathe the way she taught me to; in through my nose and out through my mouth, until the tears stopped flowing from my eyes. Shakily, I would try to count to ten.
"1..... 2...... 3....... 4....... 5...... 6...... 7..... 8...... 9........"
Slowly, I would fall back asleep in my mothers warm, soothing embrace.

As I got older, the nightmares stopped. I would sleep peacefully each night, with no recollection of any dreams at all. I never missed them. Until now.
Because when I was younger, my nightmares would stop the second I awoke from them.
I wished more than anything that I could wake up from this seemingly endless nightmare. It's as if all of the monsters and creatures that used to haunt me as a child had taken on a human form and were now haunting me as a grown woman. But now, inside my own home, making dinner for my family, it was as if I was safe from them. The monsters couldn't haunt me anymore.

Almost.

Suddenly, I could hear the sound of a loud car pulling up towards the house.
I recognised the sound immediately. It was the sound the monsters made before they would attack me in my nightmares.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten.
1..... 2 ..... 3..... 4..... 5..... 6..... 7.... 8..... 9....

The door swung open, but instead of being met with the sight of my tired, worried mother, I was met with the monster I was having the nightmare about in the first place. I totally lost all control of my body and everything went limp. I felt the cool steel of the knife slip out of my hands and clatter into the sink as I turned around to look at him.

Michele?

"What happened?" I try to force out, but I could feel my throat tightening, as if the monster had tied a noose around it and was pulling it, tighter and tighter, until the words felt like they were getting stuck.

"He was up there, with the boy,"
I tried to breathe, in through my nose and out through my mouth, the way my mother taught me all those years ago. I asked myself; what my mother would do?

She was always so calm and composed, a stable maternal figure. I wished that I could tell her all of this. I wished I could cry on her shoulder and ask her what would you do?
I could never be like her.
I could never protect Michele from his monsters the way my mother could protect me from mine.

I turned the radio off and looked down at Michele.
I couldn't stop the sobs that escaped me as I saw that he was covered in bruises, and his eyes were filled with fear.
"It was him. He beat me up," He admittedly timidly.
I felt my heart breaking as I heard those words from my son. He was very young and always looked small, but as he said those words, he appeared even smaller to me.
I tried to do what my mother would do; I held Michele close to me and tried to stay composed and stable. But it was no use; I was hysterically crying, holding him as tightly as I could.

As I pulled away, I saw Felice. I saw him standing in my kitchen. The monster had now invaded the place where I felt safe. And he had this smug look on his face, as if he was proud. As if he was proud of abusing a child. My child.

"What have you done, you bully?" The noose had become even more constricted as I spoke to Felice.

"What have I done to him? I brought him home, didn't I?" I couldn't listen to anything else he had to say. I didn't want to listen to anything else he had to say. Suddenly, all the memories of my mother, calm and composed, had completely left me. I was no longer in control. It was as if I acted out of instinct.

I pounced on Felice. I couldn't tell when to stop. The only coherent thought in my head was about how much I hated Felice, and what he had done to my boy. I hated him so much that I could have killed him.

He kept pleading with me to stop, but I couldn't listen. All I could hear were the words "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"
I kicked him between his legs as hard as I could. He screamed and curled over.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. I felt like an unstoppable force had taken over my body and forced me into fighting, but I was too hysterical to stop, even if I wanted to. I barely remember picking up the frying pan from the stove and hitting him in the face with it as hard as I possibly could.

I barely remember his hand curling around my ankle and pulling tightly, until I had collapsed on the floor. I barely remember scratching him until blood was seeping out of both of his arms and onto the floor.

But I remember my husband and his boss walking in on that very moment.
And in that moment I just shut my eyes. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. 1... 2.... 3... 4.... 5.... 6.... 7.... 8.... 9.... 10......

Except this time, when I opened my eyes, the monsters were still there.

The End