The Visit

“Mommy!” 

I open my eyes fully alert, like I hadn’t been dead asleep for the past four hours. I feel a tiny body jump on my stomach and crawl her way underneath the sheets and blankets. 

“What’s wrong Vi? Did you have a nightmare?” Violet presses her face into my ribs, wrapping her tiny arms around me and squeezing as hard as she can.

“No.” She squeaks, wiping her eyes on my black camisole. 

“Then what is it baby?” I ask softly, brushing her long golden hair off her forehead.

“My closet door opened and I heard voices,” she whispers against my side, squeezing tighter. She’s small but her death grip is no joke and I try to loosen the boa constrictor type force that threatens to bruise my sides. 

“Violet, I’m sure it was nothing.”

“No, Mommy there’s something in the closet and it’s scaring the c-word outta me!”

The C word? I immediately thought of cunt and chuckle to myself, knowing full well that wasn’t the word she was thinking of. I sigh and brush her hair back so I can see her face a little better. Her big blue eyes are pink with sleep and wet with tears.

“Okay let’s go kill the monster then,” I say, because I can’t think of any other option, plus that’s what I would want my Mom to do. 

Her head pops up. “You can do that?” Her stormy blue eyes flick back and forth between mine and I smile.

“Of course I can,” I say while I sit up, swing my legs around the bed, and plant my feet on the hardwood floor. “It’s my specialty afterall.”

“Really?” Violet says as she sits up from my bed and I walk into the open door leading to the bathroom, and grab my bottle of Febreeze from under the sink.

“You see this?” I ask, holding up the bottle and I see her face slide into skepticism.

“Isn’t that what you use to make the couch smell like Christmas?”

“Yes,” I say, “but it also kills monsters.”

“No it doesn’t,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

 Ugh, I need her to not be clever for a minute. “Oh but it does, this one is special.”

“How?” she says, her tiny voice dripping with incredulity. 

“Because it kills monsters,” I say, not impressed with my own logic, but it’s 2am and I need her to start buying it for chrissake.

“Momma, are you sure?” she says and I almost start laughing at the level of cynicism I’ve nurtured into my kid.

Okay, think of something smart Daisy, you can outsmart the six year old. “You know what Mommy does for a living, right?”

“Yeah you make medicines!” she says with a little hop.

“That’s right! That means that mommy knows how to make medicine to kill bad things. So, I put special monster killing medicine in this Febreeze so no monsters could get you. You don’t hear monsters on our couch, right?”

“No,” she says furrowing her brow.

“And you don’t hear monsters on any of the other furniture momma sprays the Febreeze on, right?”

Her jaw slackens as she looks at me like she just realized the answer to all her problems. “And you haven’t sprayed it in the closet, so of course the monsters would hide in there!”

“Bingo-bango,” I say, gesturing for her to follow me as I walk to the door to the hall leading to her room. We walk into her dark room and I make my way to her open closet door. “Go ahead and get in bed. I’ll take down this pesky monster once and for all,” I say, holding the bottle of Febreeze like a gun as I approach the closet door. I open the door and spray the bottle of Febreeze all over the clothes hanging in her closet. “Alright then. All taken care of. Monster is gone. Disappeared into dust after I got the medicine on it,” I say as I turn and see her pulling the blankets over her legs.

“Momma?” she says as I shut the closet door and I turn to her. “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course baby.” I say and I set the Febreeze on the nightstand and scoot in next to her. She snuggles into my chest and closes her eyes as I lay on my bicep gently combing my fingers through her hair. I see her clock on her nightstand tick to 2:15 am, and I count down the minutes before she’s out cold. I kiss the top of her head as the clock ticks to 2:30am and her jaw is slack and she’s limp against my chest, fast asleep finally. I slide out of her bed as silently as I can, padding to the door when I hear the gentle squeak of the closet door opening. I turn around and see it’s open. I did close it, right? I distinctly remember closing it. Whatever. I tiptoe over and close it all the way and then make my way to her bedroom door, but as soon as I reach the handle a shiver runs up my spine as the squeak of the door has me stalk still. I turn slowly and see it’s open…again. I silently walk back over to the closet door and see the vent above the closet door wafting cool air through the grate which must be causing the door to open. I grab her chair from her vanity, placing the back under the door handle anchoring it shut so the air can’t pull it open. Feeling satisfied, I quietly turn back around and make for the bedroom door. I keep her door open a crack as I walk back down the hall and hear the gentle scrape of furniture on the hardwood and I stop midstep. 

“No fucking way,” I whisper as the scraping continues. I turn back around and walk back to Violet’s bedroom door, stopping just outside as the vanity chair scratches along the floor. I swallow as I think I hear the faintest sound of whispers and it sounds like Violet’s voice. 

“My Mom killed you, you’re supposed to be dead,” Violet says softly. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I feel sweat begin to collect on my brow as a low and distinctly different voice answers.

“But I’m not.”