Monster Boy

prologue

m o n s t e r b o y

I started seeing him four days ago. He's green and big; he looks like a cloud of green smoke. He's got these big, glowing purple eyes that just make it even harder to sleep. He's driving me crazy, literally. I think I'm losing my mind. There's no such thing as clouds of green smoke with glowing purple eyes that watches you from the corner of your room when you're trying to sleep.

I haven't slept since I saw him. We stare at each other all night. He doesn't do anything, just sits and stares. When he first appeared, I thought I'd be killed and dragged to hell. He didn't kill me, and he didn't drag me to hell, but he did put me through what seemed like hell, constant fear of the unknown, thoughts of my death flooding in my head all throughout that first night.

I'm not going to say I'm okay with him, because I'm not. He's preventing me from sleeping; he's making me loose my mind. Maybe I've already lost it. That'd be a reasonable explanation for me seeing clouds of green smoke with glowing purple eyes.

My parents haven't noticed yet.

[. . .]

Another one appeared two days ago. He's tall and black; he's a shadow, I guess, he looks like one. He's sinister looking; he never stops smiling, and his smile is coated with dozens of long, sharp teeth, he doesn't have eyes, and he just stands there, like the cloud of green smoke.

Maybe they're demons. I'm not losing my mind.

[. . .]

I'm starting to see two girls. One has red hair and is taller than the other. The other is short with black hair. They appear to me three times a day; breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The girl's don't just stare at me, though. They kill themselves.

The red haired one puts a bullet to her head, and the black haired one slits her wrists. I don't like them very much.

My sanity is slipping and I'm aware of that now.

[. . .]

There are sharks in the sink. I saw them. They're tiny and blue; they swim around in circles and try to attack me when I go near the sink. My mom noticed when I refused to wash the dishes.

She didn't do anything about it yet.

[. . .]

I tried saving the little people today. They're stuck in the TV. I took my dad's yellow hatchet and broke the back of the TV to free them. I'm being sent to a mental institution Friday. The little people didn't get out of the TV.