The Monster Next Door

Monsters aren’t real. I’ve never met a monster. It was only when a friend visited did I come to realize my home wasn’t as normal as I thought it was. It had been sometime in spring, when flowers were blooming and pollen was everywhere, that my friend Raven, had come to visit. The moment she stepped foot on the porch, she seemed to feel off.

“What’s that sound?” She had asked.

“What sound?” I said.

We stood before the front door for a moment longer, listening for something. All I heard were the cicadas, the crickets, and a single hoot of an owl. 

“That sound,” She said at last. “It sounds like something’s scratching your porch?”

I frowned, looking down at the floor of the wooden porch. Then I realized what she must’ve been hearing. “Oh, that’s just Porch Pete!” I said with a laugh. “He keeps the rats and burglars out.”

And with a frown, Raven had quietly chuckled and followed me inside. 

As we walked through the home, we could hear the sound of cooking from the kitchen. It was my mother and father, making sandwiches for lunch. As we passed one of the staircases that led upstairs, we heard a sneeze.

“Bless you!” I said to the monster that lived under the stairs.

“Who was in there?” Raven asked as we stopped.

“Oh, it’s just Stairwell Sam!” I had said with a calm wave of my hand.

With a frown, Raven followed me to the living room.

There was a ghost sitting on the couch, with a magazine in hand and a frown as they muttered something about the stocks, whatever those were.

“Who is that?” Raven asked, watching the ghost flip the page.

“Oh, that’s Living-Room Larry. They… They are sort of grumpy,” I admitted.

Living-Room Larry stood up and scowled. “I am not grumpy,” They said, pointing at me. “I’m merely brooding.”

“And why is that, Mr. Living-Room Larry?” I asked.

“Well, if you must know, there’s an issue with the stocks.”

“And what are the stocks?”

Living-Room Larry seemed annoyed now. They glanced at Raven. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Raven. I hope you enjoy your stay.” They said before continuing down the hall to the kitchen, most likely to have a conversation with my father.

“You have a ghost who lives in your home?” Raven asked once he had left.

“Yes. But they prefer to be in the living room for some reason.” I said. And with that, we continued.

“There’s something under the couch!” Raven screamed.

I merely frowned before laughing. “Oh, there’s nothing bad about it. It’s just Sofa Susie. It likes to eat the crumbs and hide pennies in the cushions,” I said.

Raven quickly walked over to me, clearly not liking the idea of being near Sofa Susie. 

I smiled at the pair of golden eyes that peered at me from below the couch. I watch as it disappears. “Come. Let’s go play in my room!” I say.

Raven glances at the couch with a fearful look before following.

As we entered the bedroom, Raven said, “Is there something scratching on your floor?” 

I frowned. “We don’t have rats if that’s what you’re asking,” I said.

“No, it sounds like there’s something scratching. Can’t you hear it?”

I listened and came to hear the faint sound of something scratching wood. “Oh! Yes, that’s Under-The-Bed Ulric and Closet Clara!” I said. “Under-The-Bed Ulric is a bit like a dog and keeps away the bad dreams and keeps me safe at night. Closet Clara likes to organize everything and likes the smell of the detergent my mother picked.”

Rave frowned as she stared at me. “What– What do you mean there’s a monster under your bed?!” She said.

“There’s a monster under my bed. They make sure I don’t have nightmares.” I said with a mere shrug of my shoulders.

Her frown deepened. “But monsters aren’t real!” She said.

The scratching stopped, an a faint whimper was made.

“Of course they are,” I said with a chuckle. “What you're saying is ridiculous. Look, just there, outside in the garden,” I pointed to the window.

Raven frowns as she looks there. “What. Is. That.” She said.

“That’s The Gardner! Their very nice, and sometimes they’ll share their strawberries with me!” I said.

Raven shook her head. “My mother has always said that monsters aren’t real! That there are no monsters under the bed, none in the closet, and never one under the stairs!” She insisted.

I look at Raven. “Maybe not at your home. But in mine, they are,” I said. “And they're a part of my family.”

Raven looks at me for a moment longer. “So they're not mean?” She asked.

I shook my head.

And so the days continued. And they went on as normally as I was used to.

And as years passed, new monsters visited. Raven had been there when they came. She had been here when Rooftop River came for the spring. Raven was the first to notice her, actually. Rooftop River reminded me of an angel, except my mother and father had told me never to look her in the eye, for bad things happened to those who looked Rooftop River in the eye.

Raven had been here when The Green One came as well. They stayed in the woods and wore a cloak made of moss and had shaggy green hair that fell over their eyes. They wore black and blue mushroom hats, and always carried a lantern made of vines and sticks. There was always an eternal teal light that shined from it, and some nights, when I look out the window, I can see The Green One sitting with The Gardener. My mother had been the one to notice them.

And she had been there when The Reaper came. They didn't speak, but they wore a cloak of white, and the rest of their clothes were black. Most nights, there were howling of their hounds. Sometimes, when we check on the animals at night, we hear the rattling of something. My father had explained that those weren't wolves that howled, but hounds brought back from the dead. Raven had woken me one winter evening to tell me there was some sort of skeleton hound in the yard. We had put up a camera to see them again.

And Raven grew to like the monsters who lived in our home, and the monsters who visited us sometimes

But maybe I should’ve explained that not all monsters were as good as the ones in my family? 

Maybe if I had told her never to go into those woods, I’d know where she is.

Maybe if I’d explained, she’d still be here.