There's a monster in my closet that comes out at night with spindly arms and toothpicks for legs. He crawls around on all fours like a spider and laughs in my ear at night, "hee hee, hee hee."
I've tried talking to Mommy about it but she always tells me that monsters aren't real and I should be a big boy, and then the next day she takes away a good boy point from the refrigerator.
Mommy is busy most of the day calling her friends and locking herself up in her studio. She's an artist, you know, and I think a lot of people really like her work. I've tried talking to her about it and one time I even sneaked in to get some paint to make something for her, but she yelled at me because her paints are really expensive. I lost a lot of good boy points that day.
But I have a plan! As scary as the monster can be I've been a big boy lately and haven't screamed out once all month. I saved up enough good boy points to buy some paints of my own, and they came with all sorts of fun colors. I took some paper from the printer, 'cause I know Mommy wouldn't miss just one, and set down to make some art.
I know I'm not very good at it, but I painted me and Mommy smiling out at the park on a nice day. I even put sunglasses on the sun!
I waited all day to show Mommy, and finally got the chance when she was putting me to bed. I said, "look Mommy!" as I held up my art for her to see. She took a moment to look at it while I beamed with anticipation for her reaction.
And then she started laughing.
"Oh my god, that's terrible!" She managed to get out between laughing so hard she coughed a few times. "Oh, that's plenty of good boy points, I needed a laugh!" With that, she walked out, leaving me alone in my room.
I put my art down next to my bed and lay down, wondering why she didn't like it. Why she didn't want her good boy to be an artist like her.
As I stared up at the ceiling, the monster in my closet slowly crept out. He didn't crawl around this time, just walked out looking back and forth between me and the door.
Eventually he simply left, muttering, "well shit, even I can't compete with that."
Submitted February 27, 2017 at 07:36PM by Zchxz http://ift.tt/2lM87T8 shortscarystories
No comments:
Post a Comment