A short story by Emily Green
“Tulips, I think.” It was a new house and Jackie was looking down at their new garden from the balcony pointing out the different flowers to her daughter: roses, bluebells, violets, sunflowers, every flower imaginable lined the newly cut grass lawn. She stared at the view but only for a few moments, slowly stepping back away from the aureate balcony into the faint smell of a new house. The scent lingered in the air; a strange but oddly satisfying combination of paint, plaster and roses. Jackie’s eyes widened at the sight of the bright tones and colours, drawn to the light olive-green walls that lined the 2nd floor. “Molly, this is our new home!” She grinned at her daughter who beamed with a honeysuckle smile and joy shining on her pollen dusted face.
Ivory halls were combed with bright sun rays pouring from the gleaming white windows. The grand dining room was newly polished with a grand oak table whilst the kitchen was acquainted with sheeny brass pots and pans; an antiquated black stove sat comfortably between the pine wood cabinets on either side of its large glossy exterior. It was as if Jackie had fainted and was being held in a prison of her imagination with doves dropping olive branches into her hands as her eyes watched wild horses galloping off along the horizon into the cloudless sky.
Jackie had recently applied for a job and had been accepted as a secretary to an MP. She had imagined her career sitting in the House of Commons with the many other political saviours. She had thought it would be a lively place with numerous complicated entanglements of witty political propositions and wonderful ongoing disputes between intelligent MPs. Instead, she did not even see most of the law proposals or anything of the sort. She would come in with a coffee and out with a few papers; only to hear them all at it like elderly people in a care home. “What was that?” She would hear one say to another. Dull, awfully dull.
But she could forget this boring occupation when she arrived to greet her new abode, still fresh from the summer’s daisies and brimming with a feeling, too perfect to be true. She could have a lovely, relaxed evening and not have to worry about –
There was a scream from Molly’s bedroom. Jackie rushed down the corridor into her room, “Molly? Is everything alright?”
“There’s a monster under my bed.” She looked pale, her skin was chalk; her puny figure quivered in the moonlight, and her fingernails grazed at her knees. “Oh, don’t be silly! I know it is a new house but not every shadow will be a monster under your bed!”
“But -”
“Go to sleep.”
That was Tuesday. It was a week later now. The job had become normal, as normal as boring gets. The house was still as homely as one would expect but not to Jackie’s daughter. Molly never slept right since that night. Before she went to sleep, she would check under the creaky bedframe, shining a torch, but nothing was there. Molly’s nightmares happened every night. So, when Jackie heard her scream, she knew what to expect to find. Her daughter would be sobbing underneath her mattress holding a flickering torch whilst rocking from side to side. Then, Jackie would cradle Molly in her arms and speak softly to her.
There was another scream tonight. Jackie walked slowly to Molly’s bedroom and knocked gently on the painted plastic wood of the door. She opened it and whispered “Molly?” The bed was empty. “Molly?” No reply. The silence crawled down Jackie’s back into every bone of her spine almost paralysing her unsteady stature. “Hello?” She called. No answer. “Molly?” No answer. Tap… Tap…
There was a monster under the bed. Its long tooth like fingers clawed at the bedframe whilst its skeletal legs rattled the metal nuts and bolts. Jackie was standing completely still. Its raven body slithered out from the shadows and lava eyes fell onto her. The beast had alien spikes that lined its visible backbone and its spiderlike body; an ugly rose, black and decaying. She struggled at the door, but it reached for her leg, clasping the rim of her pyjama trousers. She screamed at the blackening shape scrambling towards her, kicking at the thing with her free leg, barely scratching the surface of its beetle like shell, but still the monster took hold of her and dragged her meek figure under the bed.
Jackie wasn’t ready. Will you be? Always check under the bed because you never know what will be waiting for you.
