Something wicked this way comes!

My childhood was plagued by monsters! They were everywhere. They took advantage of my helplessness and tormented me in the night. When I was left alone in the room, I tried very hard to ignore them. Mother told me that by ignoring them, I would be rid of them. But they would, relentlessly, creep out from under the bed, and from inside the closet, and stealthily move towards me. The clicks and grunts they made were terrifying.

I can still see the bony fingers appear from under the bed, clutching at the sheets and dragging their bodies from the recesses, ready to spring lengthily black like shadows in the semi lit room. I spent all the time in bed cowering under the covers, wishing the monsters would just go away and leave me alone.

It was then that my sister told me about weapons that could kill a monster—laughter and happiness. I tried, but I could never test that. I could never laugh at the monsters! I was never happy!

When the monsters came in and crept towards me, I could only let out a tiny little squeak –halfway between a scream and a choke. I looked at their skeletally creaky, fearsome faces and long spindly fingers reaching out for me and went ballistic with fear. I would scream and trash about till, I had to be restrained to my bed and sedated into monster-less sleep.

It is true that they disappeared when my sister walked into the room cheerfully laughing at something someone said or chuckling at my expression of extreme fear. So perhaps she was right. The monsters were afraid of laughter! They never stayed in the same room with her.

But my sister was not there all the time. She went out with friends and had boyfriends who took her out on dates. Later she left for college and I was left battling my monsters in a room that no longer echoed with her laughter. The monsters occupied every nook and cranny of the room unfazed.

Now, the monsters never left my side. I never learnt to laugh at them!

As I grew older, they subsumed into me. They occupied the tiniest cells in my body and crept through my bloodstream. Sometimes, they pounded in my heart and throbbed in my head. I could feel them creaking and clanking inside my bones. Stress of any kind made them dance with joy. Whenever I had to return home after dark, they sprang out wickedly delighted at my plight and followed my footsteps and hid in the shadows behind and ahead of me. They walked with me, ate with me, talked with me and drained me of all happiness. I sometimes screamed in frustration and hit out at them. I was restrained again and again, but no one would deal with the monsters!

Some of my colleagues at work told me, “Roshan you are sick. Get therapy before you break down completely.” I tried explaining it all to them, but they listened and did not understand. They kept telling me that I needed to get therapy. I finally nodded dispiritedly and promised to see the psychiatrist. But I was not sure the psychiatrist would be able to see my monsters. How would I show him or her what the monsters did to me? I shrugged my shoulders and decided “If I must appear very paranoid, even a little mad, so be it!” I did not go to therapy. I continued my battles in sullen silence.

One day the monsters became so mean that they wrapped their bony fingers round my neck and began to slowly choke the life out of me. That was the night I lost my job. The monsters told my boss that I was schizophrenic, and he should let me go. They convinced him that I was a danger to myself and my colleagues.

He called me into his room and said "Roshan, I have to let you go. You are very sick and need therapy. Take a few months off and take care of your health." I knew then that he was telling me that I was not good for the job. I got angry and upset. I tried to defend myself and spoke at length about the monsters and their strategy. He would not listen. So, I clutched at his shirt collar to convince him that he should not pay any attention to such wickedness, but the monsters would not let me speak. They entered the body of my boss and leered at me. I could see their fearsome faces distorting his normally handsome features. That made me angrier. I began to foam at the mouth and scream obscenities at the monsters leering at me from my boss’s face! I even tried to beat the monster out of my boss, when other monsters now possessing the bodies of my colleagues, began to choke me. I fell on my back, gasping for breath and yelling for someone to save me from them. More monsters in white coats rushed in to restrain me. Someone had called emergency services.

That is when they sent me to the institution.

There was this lady with a face filled with laughter lines. I liked her instantly. She empathized and promised to deal with the monsters! I was confident I could leave them in her hands, and she would really handle them!

I was so happy that the monsters left me for the first time. I could even whistle tunelessly as I sat in my well-padded room wondering how the nice lady was dealing with the monsters! She had the weapon. I chuckled and said to myself “She will laugh at them till they were extinguished/ evaporated! I will never see them again!”

But that night they were back. They came creeping into the room from within the walls and under the door and began clawing at me. They even opened the door and walked in boldly. Strangely, this time they were all dressed in white coats and were pushing needles at me. I struggled and gasped as they tied me to the table and began poking things at me. They even electrocuted me! I could not laugh or even scream. The pain was excruciating. I yelled for the nice woman to come and laugh at the monsters. She walked in but was not laughing! 

“Will I ever be rid of these wicked monsters?” I wondered as I drifted into sedated sleep…