There’s a monster living under my bed. He’s friends with the one who lives in my closet. They talk about me when I’m not around, but never answer my questions. I never see them, but I know they're there. I hear their stomachs growl at night and smell their breath on my t-shirts. They eat the marbles that fall out of my head and keep me company when I cry. I know they're there.
My mother asks why I’m always up late, and I always say,
“Monsters live in my room!”
She always replies,
“Hush hush, there there.”