Under the Bed

"Good Night, Peter. Have sweet dreams ! ", Mother said as she stood at Peter's door, silhoutted in the light coming from lounge.

"Good Night Mom", Peter replied.

Mother closed the door and Peter heard her footsteps fade away towards the master bedroom.

'Strange, how every sound got magnified in the night', Peter thought. In the day you could not hear mom open the door, which she often did, to check what Peter was doing. But at night, Peter was sure he could hear the soft swish of the owl hunting for its dinner a mile away.

"Under the bed Peter, Under the bed ... "

'I hate school', Peter thought. Peter was in the fifth grade at Crescent Bay Junior High School.

"Honey , Sweetums, Mama's boy Under the bed ... "

Peter was already sweating.

'Maria, Maria. Think of Maria.'

"Think of Maria lying under your bed, Sweetums. Think of her face burnt and mangled, her skeletal hand scratching the underside."

Peter was sweating profusely now. He held his eyes closed tightly trying to think about Maria and himself sitting on a Park Bench kissing each other. As he slowly withdrew from Maria's face, she smiled at her. And suddenly her face changed. A deep welt appeared over her left eye as her lips burst open. There were worms crawling out of the welt. Her teeth now horribly exposed, blackened. The whole world turned dark gray as she raised a skeletal hand towards him. Coming, coming for his throat ...

A soundless scream emanated from Peter's throat as his eyes opened wide. Complete darkness surronded him. His left hand, trembling wildly, groped in the darkness for the bedside lamp's switch. He found the switch and pressed it.

A soft orange glow spread in the room. The room was silent. There was no Maria with face burnt and skeletal hand stretching out. It was only his room with the smiley face wall paper all around.

'Nothing', Peter let out a sigh of relief.

"Under the bed, Sweetums ... "

That small voice again. Peter tried to ignore it. He tried to think of the Home Run he had scored the day before. Their team had won and Peter was the hero. He tried to relive the moment when he had been hoisted to the shoulders of his team mates. They had even drunk some beer that night.

"There could be blood under the bed Sweetums ! You want to drink blood, Honey. It tastes kinda salty. Good for your heart ! "

Peter shuddered. He had to do it. He had to stop this, this foolish nonsense. Kindergarten kids were supposed to be afraid of monsters under their bed. He was in Junior High for god's sake. What would his friends think if they knew this, what would Maria think ?

Peter knew exactly what to do, how to stop this. He just had to look under the bed. Then it would all stop. There would be nothing under the bed, just darkness, Then he could go back to sleep peacefully, that irritating small voice silenced forever.

"Look under the bed Peter. Under the bed ... "

But what if there was something under the bed. Something horrible and terrible.

"Under the bed Peter, under your bed ... "

'Shut up', Peter thought. There was nothing under the bed, maybe just air, nothing else. There were no monsters or witches. Nothing.

"Why don't you look under the bed Peter, Sweetums, Honey, Mama's boy. "

Peter clenched his fists digging deeply into his palms.

"Is the mama's boy afraid ? ", that small voice mocked him.

He had to do it. Peter decided that he was going to do it, now.

The small voice remained silent.

Slowly Peter sidled towards the edge of his bed. He grabbed the left bed post with his left hand as if afraid that he would fall down and started to bend towards the underside of the bed. Suddenly he scrambled backwards, towards the shelf on the otherside. His right hand groped in the semi darkness. His hand closed on the small silver cross lying on he shelf. Grabbing the cross tightly he sidled back towards the edge of his bed.

Slowly as his eyes turned towards the underside of the bed, the orange coloured carpet slid outof his sight . His fluffy white slippers and then the darkness. He continued bending until he had the full view of the underside.

Darkness, Pitch black darkness.

There was nothing below his bed only pitch black darkness. He stretched out his left hand into the darkness, half afraid that something would grab it.

Nothing grabbed it. He only felt the warm air underneath. There was nothing there, nothing at all !

Peter let out a big sigh of relief. He rose up slowly, put out the bedside lamp and lay back on the bed, smiling serenely. Now he could go back to his thoughts, about baseball, about Maria.

He and Maria were sitting on a park bench looking at each other's eyes. Slowly he moved closer to Maria's face. Oh her lips! they were so full and red . Closer and closer ...

"O Peter! Sweetums, Honey"

What now. Peter was irritated. 'And stop calling me Sweetums'.

"Just one thing, Honey. Your bed is in the centre of the room, right ? "

'And Honey too. Yes my bed is in the centre of the room, So ? '

"Whatever you say Peter, now there was light in the room when you looked under the bed, wasn't it so? "

So ????

"The other side, Peter, did you see the other side ? "

Peter's eyes widened in horror. He had not seen the other side of the bed. There had been only pitch black darkness, no faint light towards the other end, as there should have been !

The small voice cackled madly.

"Under the bed, Peter, under the bed ... "

My first try to a planned story, it is absurdist and has elements of horror and has a child as amajor character. Somethings that I have observed tend to recur in my compositions.