6. Evie—Age Six
Evie—Age Six
He’s going to come for me. I know he is.
The monster always comes for me.
Nothing stops the monster.
I tried talking to Lucy about it. I was so scared to tell her about the monster but she told me that it’s okay to be scared at nighttime. She gets scared, too.
I was shocked. The monster visits her as well? I thought I was the only one.
He told me I was special.
He told me he loved me.
Lucy must be really special, too.
She said that when she gets scared, she cuddles her teddy and closes her eyes. She says the monster can’t get her when she’s touching the teddy.
I try it now.
Hugging my brown bear to my chest, I squeeze my eyes shut and mutter the words, “He can’t get me, not when I’m touching my teddy.”
With my back to the wall, never to the door, I chant it over and over, whispering so the monster doesn’t come and get me in trouble. “The monster can’t touch me.”
I’m touching my teddy. My teddy will protect me.
My heart sours, going pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
I haven’t been able to fall asleep lately. I’m always too scared about the monster, but as I cuddle my teddy and whisper the words, my eyes grow heavy. So heavy I struggle to keep them open.
I don’t have to worry, though. I don’t have to stay awake and watch the door because my teddy is going to keep me safe now.
The monster can’t scare me. I’ve got my teddy.
MATTEO - AGE EIGHT
Tiptoeing down the hall, I hold my hand over my mouth, scared my breathing will wake up Mr. and Mrs. Ellington like it does my parents. If I ever wake up my mom and dad, they scream at me so loud I always end up wetting myself from fright.
They say they’re very important, that their jobs save people’s lives and they have to sleep to make sure they don’t have any accidents.
I know that. I never wake them on purpose. I just get really, really thirsty at nighttime.
I’m almost at the stairs now, so close to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water, but I stop outside Evie’s door. I hear sniffles from inside.
Why is Evie sad?
My stomach tumbles, like it always does when I think about Evie being upset or hurt. I don’t want Evie to be sad. I hate the thought of her crying.
It’s instinct; my body moves before I can tell it to stop.
Clutching the door handle, I turn it, but the second I do, a small gasp sounds in the room, and the crying intensifies.
Oh no, did I scare her?
“Little Dove, it’s just me.”
“V-valenti?”
Quickly stepping inside, I shut the door behind me before Marcus or Serena catch me. They know I help Evie sometimes after her nightmares but they don’t like me being alone with her in her room at night. I don’t know why though.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “Did you have a nightmare?” I approach the bed, except she’s not there. I drop to my hands and knees to peek underneath, but she’s not there either.
“I’m here,” she says through a hiccup.
The wardrobe cracks open a little, giving way to a red-rimmed, blue-eyed Evie with tears streaking down her cheeks like a river. She clutches a teddy to her chest with a death grip.
“Why are you in the closet?” I ask as I walk over.
“T-the monster came and got me.” Her lower lip wobbles. “I-I’m scared he will come back.”
My heart lurches, bile rising in my throat.
I hate seeing Dove like this.
Stepping inside the closet, I take a seat beside her, laying my hand on her leg but she flinches, scurrying away from me.
The move makes my chest hurt so much I clutch at it to try and get the burning to stop.
“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I’ll stay with you, make sure the monster doesn’t come back and get you. ”
I thought it would help, that it would soothe her, but her chest rises and falls faster, her crying getting more erratic to the point I’m scared Serena will come in at any moment. Evie must think the same because she smacks a hand over her mouth, trying to quiet her sobs.
“You can’t stop the monster! Even my teddy didn’t!” Her face contorts with pain. “Lucy said the teddy would keep me safe but he still hurt me.”
“Who?”
I’ll hurt the monster. I’ll hurt anyone who hurts my Dove.
“The floating head man,” she whispers. “He’s so scary.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you,” I promise, scooting closer.
She shakes her head, her tears slipping off her jaw and onto her teddy. “You can’t stop him.” She hiccups. “The teddy was supposed to keep me safe but it didn’t. It was supposed to keep me safe!”
“I’m sorry, little Dove.”
“Me too.” She sniffles, her shaking hand reaching out, hesitant, before she clutches my hand and whispers, “Will you stay with me?”
Squeezing her hand, I shuffle closer until our knees are touching. “I’ll never leave your side.”