A Monster Outside

It should have been a terrifying experience, really. The sound of a monster outside of her bedroom in the dead of the night. But Catherine, laying in her tiny, pink and white bed, wasn’t terrified. In fact, she wasn’t afraid at all. Not even as she heard the thuds of unfamiliar footsteps on the front porch, right outside her window. For she was sure she wouldn’t be kidnapped.

Sure, there was her window, which was already open by three or four inches. But it was impossible to move it up past that far (she had tried before). And then, of course, there was the front door. Her mom and dad always kept it unlocked, believing that there was no threat of danger. Maybe in other places, but not in their close knit, small town.

Besides the thuds of the monster's feet, the night was still. By the light of the porch lamp, Catherine watched the creature. It was interesting; real life monsters look exactly the way they are portrayed in storybooks. Even with its back turned towards her, Catherine could see it fit every description of a monster she’d ever read about.

If the monster entered through the front door, it would be in the living room. And if it took the first entryway it saw, it would be right where she and Rosemary were.

The thuds continued. Catherine lay still, not even wiggling her toes.

Rosemary was her older sister. She was fifteen while Catherine was twelve. They had always lived here, straight across the hall from each other, in rooms their parents had arranged for them before they were even born. Come to think of it, their parents had arranged a lot of other things. They named their first daughter Rosemary, a name connoting beauty and grace, for a girl that would be just so. Rosemary was always poised, and never obnoxious or loud. But whenever she walked into the room, it was somehow clear: she didn’t just ask for attention, she demanded it.

And their second daughter? Her name was Catherine. Which could be spelled Catherine or Katherine or Cathryn or Katharine or Katheryn or Kathryn. There were just so many Catherines. Which one was she? A young child unsure of herself and her place in the cosmos, Catherine had always looked over at her sister; watching, observing, understanding.

By understanding who Rosemary was, she understood who she was. Rosemary was the hero. And Catherine was hidden in the darkness of her sister’s shadow - an invisible girl. Made out of hidden moments, of whispers and secrets. Of waking up, and then laying awake, on dark nights, long after everyone else had gone to sleep.

Now, she stared blankly at the dark ceiling. This certainly wasn’t the first time she’d woken up in the middle of the night. But it was the first time she'd woken up to a monster. And from what she heard, it was just pacing back and forth across the porch. Why didn’t it just enter the house already? Was it stalling? Debating if it should intrude or not? Trying to work up the nerve?

The thuds stopped. And for a moment, Catherine wondered if she’d even heard them at all. As if to confirm its existence, the monster let out a coarse, raspy cough. The girl’s stomach turned. But still, she wasn’t terrified. She wasn’t afraid at all, for she was sure she would not be kidnapped.

Why? Because of Rosemary, of course. Her beautiful sister. The one more valuable, the one always seen, the one always chosen.

And as for Catherine? Why, the monster wouldn’t even notice she was there. She would be invisible, the way she always was, whenever Rosemary was around.

Catherine sighed. She could scream if she wanted to. And her parents would come running, full of panic and worry. The two of them would scare the monster away.

But what if she didn’t scream?

The girl closed her eyes. She breathed in slowly, and tried to exhale. The vision remained. A life without Rosemary. She could be made out of her own experiences, the invisible moments, all those little things she always had to keep to herself. She could be who she was when the world wasn’t watching.

And no one would even know that she had chosen not to scream. No one knew she woke up at night.

Something squeaked in the darkness. The knob of the front door turning. Catherine’s blood ran cold.

She’d waited too long.

She could scream, but the monster would get to her and Rosemary before their parents did, just in time to snatch one of them. No, she had to run in front of it, throw herself into its path, make sure it saw her first.

Barely having time to think, she leapt out of bed, through the doorway, into the hall. She ran straight at the monster, colliding headfirst with the beast. The air burst from her lungs. She crumpled backwards onto the cold floor, breathless, the dark pressing down on her.

And now she cried. For she had been brave. But she was still just a scared little girl. So she cried. She curled into the fetal position, put her hands over her face, and shut her eyes as tightly as she could.

The monster loomed over her. The girl’s heart pounded against the wood. The beast got down on the floor next to her. Touched her.

Her skin prickled. Was it … comforting her? She opened her eyes through her fingers.

“Cathy.”

Her sobs faltered. She took her hands off her face. And opened her eyes completely.

“R...Rosie?”

Yes, the monster was still everything that had been described in storybooks. But it also had deep and knowing eyes, a gentle yet dignified expression. Rosemary was in there.

The monster (Rosemary?) shook her head furiously. “Oh! This is my fault. All my fault! I should have given you a fair warning. Because of course you were going to catch me eventually! You’re always up at night! You think I don’t know Cathy, but I hear you-”

“WHY ARE YOU A MONSTER.”

“Shh! You’re going to wake up mom and dad!” Her finger pressed to her lips, the older girl moved closer.

Catherine straightened up.

Rosemary sighed. “I turn into a monster. At night sometimes. When no one is watching.”

“Wha… why?”

“I’m not really sure. It’s just another part of me, I guess.”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, absolutely! It isn’t painful or anything. It’s just that it makes laying in bed a bit uncomfortable. So I have to get up and walk around.”

“Will it happen to me?”

“Nah. As far as I know, it’s just me.”

“And Mom and Dad don’t know?”

“No one knows. It’s something I’ve been hiding. I want to keep it a secret.” Rosemary threw her head back. “People always give me so much attention, Cathy! I wish I were more secretive, like you. I don’t like the idea of everyone knowing everything about me.”

The younger girl could say nothing. In the dark hallway, the two of them sat facing each other for a long time. One a monster, one a girl.

“You know I get up at night?”

“Oh yea, definitely. I hear you tossing and turning. Talking to yourself. Sometimes I even hear you get up and pace. It does worry me sometimes. I was planning on eventually confronting you about it.” She chuckled. “But it seems you caught me first.”

Catherine was silent.

“This only lasts a few hours, by the way.”

And it was true. In the time they’d been talking, Rosemary was slowly transitioning back to a human.

“I just… I don't know what to do.”

Rosemary looked shocked, as if it were the most obvious thing. "You be proud of yourself. You're a hero! You tackled a monster in the dark. And you know, it’s always about what you do in the dark.”

And just like that, she was up. “I’ll be back to normal at breakfast.” She said, walking into her bedroom. She popped her head back out. “Try to go to sleep, Cathy. You know it worries me when you stay up so late.” At this she gave a soft smile, and shut the door.

But Catherine didn’t go to sleep. She stayed in the dark, on the floor, in the empty hallway. Her sister's words echoed in her mind. And in the dim light of that breaking morning, she began to understand. There was more to her sister than she saw in the daytime. Rosemary had her own secrets, bits of herself tucked away, for quiet nights just like these. So it was impossible (it had always been impossible) for her to define herself by her sister.

But there was one more thing she had to do.

She went to Rosemary’s room, and cracked open the door. But it was just her beautiful sister, sleeping soundly, a streak of sunlight across her face. Maybe there was a tinge of green on her cheeks. But it was fading with the rising day.

And so she went to bed.

The sisters would never talk about this specific interaction. But there would be times, when Catherine would wake up at night, for a glass of water, or to use the bathroom. And she and Rosemary would pass each other, one a monster, one a girl. And they would both smile knowingly.

But those times weren’t often. From then on, Catherine could sleep.