Monster Under The Bed

Mr. Hortowitz

 It was chaos. Apparently that twit told everyone that there was a man in the girls toilets. Not a monster. 

To be honest, someone calling me a coward monster is way better than being called a man. It's horrifying. A man is a human being, and as far as I know, they used to burn women alive because they were a 'witch'. If they had done some actual research, a witch is a monster and a monster doesn't enter the human world. Unless it's to frighten young children. Human beings are crazy creatures. Like another human once said: 'A tiger is better than a human because human beings have morals and know whats right and wrong but still choose the wrong while a tiger doesn't know what's going on.' 

 Which tells me that humans know what's going on. Then there are the World Wars, and honestly, they were so horrifying that even us monsters had to stay well away from it in our houses. 

Back to the story. That twit told everyone that there was a man in the stalls. Of course, the teachers panicked, with all the school shootings and stuff (another reason why being called a human being is offensive) going on in this world. The teachers and the principal, along with the guards, ran towards me, so I didn't have time to do anything more than becoming invisible. The principal literally looked at me in the eye, and then frowned at the little girl. 

 'I don't see anyone here, Ms. Brown.' He said sternly, looking at that kid. 

 'But he was right there, Mr. Waters.' That little Brown said, teary-eyed. I felt sympathetic for that little girl. I was like that once. I couldn't even ask for a bathroom leave without bursting into tears. Also, their surnames are ridiculous. Who has surnames of objects and colours? I don't. I won't tell you my name. I would rather be nameless, than become another human-loved monster.

 Mr. Waters looked at her for a second, and then said that the school will be searched thoroughly and the students will have to leave the school, in case Ms. Brown was right. 

 I personally felt bad for the entire school.  I thought about the poor girl and the paranoid teachers as i walked home, still invisible, with Dawn, and her stepfather. They didn't have a car - they couldn't afford one. I looked at the thin, strict figure of Steve - he would break into pieces if someone ever hugged him. 

 'Did you ever hug him?' I whispered to Dawn, for no reason at all. I guess I wanted to know if he had to be glued back afterwards. 

 'No. We aren't - very close.' Dawn whispered back, looking away from me. It must be hard for her. She didn't have a proper parent ever since her mother died. I looked at the stern, stiff figure of Steve. His glasses seemed too big for his tiny, mouse-like face. I noticed that he was wearing a white coat, with his name: Mr. Hortowitz. 

 'I am hungry.' I whispered to Dawn. I hadn't eaten anything for so long I would have died if I wasn't immortal. 

 'We'll eat at home.' She whispered back, now looking at me with her beautiful brown eyes. Her faced lacked a smile. I told that to her, but she just frowned in reply. 

 'Who you talking to, sunshine?' Steve said, softly touching Dawn's shoulder. Dawn looked at him for a moment, and then looked away. 

 'I am just talking to my imaginary friend.' She replied back. 

 'Is he a monster?'

'Yes.'

'The same one?'

'A different one.'

'You are a weird child. Why don't you get some real friends? and why a monster? Aren't they scary? They are evil - and fake.' He said, with a smile. I ignored it all, of course. It was the usual thing - Parents didn't believe in monsters, fairies or magic. They didn't even believe in their own children. (metaphor, humans.) 

I noticed that Dawn's face was going red. Steve was oblivious to that, of course. Before I could stop her, Dawn kicked Steve hard on his knee. 

 'What was that for?' said Steve, surprisingly still smiling. He was such a nice father. Dawn was just a twit. Dawn glared at Steve, and then ran in front of a door. I looked up at the small building. 

From the outside, it was small and boring - just like Mr. Hortowitz. I followed Dawn inside. 

 This house wasn't what I thought it would be.