Monsters

*INTRODUCTION*

“Eli do you have your poem?” Mrs. Quinn the group therapist questioned. I stood up, got the crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket and took a breath.

“When mommas gone and daddy’s out who’s there to save you? When mommy died and daddy cried who was there to comfort you? When the darkness comes creeping up who’s there to love you?  Because monsters don’t sleep under your bed, they sleep inside your head.” I said sitting down letting everyone think about my poem, most likely tearing it apart in their mind. I don’t think anyone really understands it. It’s not just about a boy who lost his mom, it’s about a boy who lost his parents. One of them died and the other just ignored him, leaving him to deal with the mourning all alone. After me one by one the rest of the group went up talking about their monsters, bulimia, anorexia, depression, bi polar, and anxiety.  But last was her, Autumn Clark. Her hair was a Golden blonde it hung perfectly just above her mid back, her eyes where a brownish green with golden flecks. From last Wednesday to this one since she has been here I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, her voice were as quiet as a bell. She didn’t talk much though. No one knows her reason to be here yet but I really want to find out, I want to know her and to show her life only gets better. She stood up it was her turn to talk.

“She went to the ocean, and jumped in the waves, and prayed that the darkness would take her away, she gasped for the air that wasn’t there and let the sea consume her” She said sitting back down letting her bangs cover her face. Her poem kind of scared me, I wanted to ask her what it meant but of course I could never get the nerve to talk to her. I wouldn’t know what to say. I guess I just feel she’s too good for me, she walks and talks in a way that makes me know she’ll never feel the same way.  We all went through our poems and ready to leave she walked past me and of course I didn’t say a thing. It’s hard to talk to someone like her, she gorgeous and I’m awkward, her hair light and perfect and mines dark and tousled, and she’s walks with stride and I walk with a slouch, and she’s infinitely interesting and I’m just me.