Story Time with Sierra: "There is No Such Thing as Monsters"
I could hear the whistling and howling of the wind cutting through the trees and fields of long grass that surrounded the house. The old Victorian home creaked under the pressure. Loud, drawn-out moans of the wood bending with the breeze rang out through the whole house followed by occasional pops and knocks.
Through the opened kitchen window I could see the cloud-high pine trees swaying violently in the wind. So thick with brushes and branches. The dark night sky looked pronouncedly black tonight and all light from the moon and stars were hidden away behind clouds. Slight hints of texture in them made them seem as though they were made of charcoal. As the wind wound up and down in a steady pace, the kitchen window curtains fluttered dramatically. The cold air soon began nipping at the tips of my ears and nose. I shut the window, flipping the old copper latch to lock it. It rattled in its’ wooden frame only adding to the odd noises in the home.
Right as I started towards to dining area a flash of lightening illuminated the yard. Looking outside I could see the individual tree trunks and their branches. I could see as the truck of the trees curved and bent in rigid ways, creating intricate designs. The tall, dry grass looked like a waving ocean of seaweed. There was something else though. Something that didn’t fit in the image. Something far too large to be human. It looked like it was made of vines and branches. Its’ spine harsh and defined pointing up in a hunched position. It seemed to be staring at the house. Or was it I who it was staring at?
The flash went as quick as it came. Ridiculous! My eyes must be playing tricks on me, I thought. And I tried to convince myself of that but deep down I knew it was real. This monster, creature, it was as real as I.
The next hour was spent reading East of Eden, written by John Steinbeck. The wind never stopped. It kept at its’ steady pace and soon began to sprinkle with rain. I walked to the kitchen to grab a cup of water. Looking through the window in front of the sink, I stared off into the wood wondering what lay in its’ depths. Was the monster still standing there looking back in? Had it never left or moved? No, stop being crazy. There is no such thing as monsters.
As I turned to walk away another flash of lightening lit up the yard and this time the monster was closer. Its’ eyes were sunken into what looked like a deformed skull. They seemed like a million flakes of star dust all pinched together. It had a large upper build to it and its’ hunch looked the same as it had before, rigid and sharp.
Now I knew it was true, I couldn’t lie to myself anything longer. As I stood frozen in my steps I began to hear a voice. One that echoed in the wind in an almost growling way.
It grumbled, “Come out, come out, for there is something you ought to see.”
My eyes widened in terror. I wanted to scream but nothing escaped me. It felt as if someone had their fists’ clenched around my throat. Soon I wasn’t looking out the window but walking towards the backdoor a few feet away. I tried to stop my feet from moving but I couldn’t even feel my legs. My arms reached out and before I knew it I was walking down the old, cracked stone steps into the dark ocean of grass. It was walking towards me, limping with its’ heavy hunch.
I turned my head to the old house which I had hated so very much for as long as I could remember. It was old and rickety and a full nights’ sleep was practically impossible. My grandfather built it with his dad when he was a young boy and the family has lived there ever since. Passed members of the family were even buried deep in the woods. A small cemetery comprised of my great grandparents, grandparents and even my older brother who was found murdered in the woods.
I thought of the memories I had formed over the years. The old, bobcat who lurked in the tall grass during most of the summers. The harsh winter that caused one of the large pine trees to splinter apart, falling, just barely missing the house. I thought of the scary stories my brother use to tell my friends and I whenever I had a sleep over. How he’d hold a flash light under his chin to add emphasis to the terror of it. I remember this one he used to love to tell, one of a monster made from branches and leaves. Whose’ eyes were sunken so deep into his skull it was like they didn’t exist. Whose’ teeth were made of splinters of wood and rocks. The monster who would watch you until he was hungry. Waiting and waiting, sometimes for years, till he was ready to drag you away into the woods and consume you; leaving only bones.
The monster! The monster my brother had warned me of all those years ago was now dragging me into the woods. Drawing me inside where he’d eat me. Consume my body and ditch my bones for whatever creature came roaming by. My mother would file me down as missing just as she did my brother. She’d pace around the house restlessly till officers finally came to the door as they had all those years ago. They’d sit her down, not evening needing to say a word. She’d know and she’d cry. She’d be broken, crushed and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was to go deep into the woods and await my consumption. Wait and wonder how it’ll feel to be ripped apart by branches and rocks. The sharp, splintering pain.
I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to grow up and do things with my life. I wanted to help my mother in the kitchen on holidays and go hunting with my dad during the spring. I wanted and I wished and I hoped.
I turned back to face the monster and instead found my brother. His big, green eyes staring at me with such joy; love. He smiled and seemed happy, yet in the back of his eyes I could see the hurt emotion. The pain he went through. The horror and prolonged experience of it all. I opened my mouth to scream and finally a voice escaped me.
Jenny! Jenny! Jenny!
I opened my eyes and there, looming over me with dread in his eyes was my brother.
“Jenny, you started screaming. Are you alright?” he asked resting his hand on my shoulder.
After a moment of disbelief I flung into his arms, “I thought you died. I thought we lived in an old Victorian house that creaked in the wind. There was a monster! He had eaten you and he was after me. I couldn’t stop him, I just coul-” He put his hand over my month.
In a soft voice he spoke, “There’s no such thing as monsters, remember?”
-Sierra R
