So, I think that I might have messed up and done something that you’re not supposed to do. I am sure by now you are all familiar with the whole monster in the closet scenario. To be frank, I thought it was all imaginative… or at least I did up until last Tuesday.
It was such a long day, there had been a number of problems at work and I was drained. I didn’t even eat dinner, I was just ready to sleep, ready for the day to just be over.
I was in bed when the scratching started. Immediately I was on edge, I live alone, so any strange sound is more than a bit unsettling, and it was made worse by the hectic day I was already having. I remember being on the verge of tears as my day had gone from bad to absolutely horrid.
I think I just snapped when the closet door slowly creaked open. It didn’t look human, its eyes were too small, its mouth too wide, and its limbs were too many, bent in ways they shouldn’t be. It was covered in drool, it looked hungry.
I flew out of bed and I wish I had just ran out of the house, but I didn’t. Instead, I slammed the closet door close and locked it. Thus it began.
For the first night, it wouldn’t stop slamming and scratching the door. Every once and a while it would gurgle and click. The sounds kept going and going. I ended up sleeping on the couch in the living room with the tv on and the volume cranked high. I could still hear it, but at least I could pretend that I didn’t.
As you may guess, the next day I was a bit tired; however, life went on. I just acted like it wasn’t there. Luckily, I keep most of my clothes in the dresser of my room, using the closet primarily as storage space. Even so, that doesn’t ease the problem at hand.
When I got back home from work on Wednesday, it was quiet. So quiet that I had almost thought that I had imagined the whole thing and I would’ve if it weren’t for the fact that I could hear its ragged breaths when I got close to the door. I stumbled back. I got clumsy, tripped over my own feet, made a loud thump when I hit the floor. At that point, I knew it was in the closet and it knew that I was outside. It wanted out and I wanted it gone.
It began slamming and scratching at the door again; however, some time while I was cooking dinner, it stopped. It was a moment of silence. I couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that made its way past my lips. I had hoped that it was over, but in actuality, it got worse.
I learned that it could speak.
For a creature that had such a monstrous appearance, it had such a gentle voice. You would think that with a voice as kind and soft as its, the words that it spoke would be nothing less than tender.
I’m not going to tell you the things that it said to me, because truly, I don’t want to remember what it said. I don’t think I’ll ever forget, but I can try. It knew every little thing that I had hoped to never hear and it said each word with such venom.
I left the house, and for a couple of days that was the routine. I would go home, hoping that it would be gone, it would start talking, and I would leave. I couldn’t stand listening to those words coming out of its mouth in that voice. If I stayed, I’m not sure what would have happened.
Thankfully, by Sunday, it gave up on that method.
On Sunday, all it did was fiddle with the knob. Don’t get me wrong, I was on edge the whole day, hearing it turn before the knob snapped back into position. With each turn it felt like the door would open, but it hasn’t, not yet. It might sound a bit strange, but I thought this was a sign of things ‘calming down’. Then on Monday it started talking again; however, it didn’t spew horrid words, it was trying to bargain with me.
It sounded sincere, it just wanted to be let out, it just wanted me to open the closet door. It kept saying that it wasn’t going to hurt. All that it wanted at this point was for me to open the door so it could leave. It even promised that it would never come back, that I would never see it again. It kept pleading, crying, begging to be let out.
I really want to believe it, but I can’t help but wonder, what if it’s lying?
It said such horrible things to me. I’m scared that it’s just trying to trick me. I wonder if it already has a way out and it’s just doing this to taunt me, make me suffer.
I can’t go on like this for much longer. I’m not even at my house now, I’m in some random coffee shop writing this. The people behind me that keep looking over my shoulder at my screen probably think I’m losing it, but I don’t really care about that right now. Right now, I need ideas on how to handle that thing.
I’m so tired, I feel like I don’t even know what’s really happening anymore.
I just need a way to get rid of it.
So there you have it, I have a monster locked in my closet and I don’t know what to do, but I’m starting to think that opening that door is my only option.