• Arthur Ni

Under the Bed

I've never had much that scared me. I look at things that spook most people as coincidences. That's not to say I've never had anything scare me at all, but in general, I'm not scared by much.


I remember about 15 years ago, when I was about 10 years old, I would tuck my sister in each night, because if I didn’t, no one would.


She would’ve been about five at the time and like most five-year old’s, everything freaks them out. I did the normal monster checks, in the closet, under the bed, and in the closet again for safety.


I didn’t mind too much because I knew nothing would ever be there, and it made her happy.

One night she seemed more scared than usual. She had me check under the bed five times before she would go to sleep. I assured her each time nothing was there, but I still checked for her.


After she fell asleep, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was about that night that made her so unsettled. I even offered to check the closet again but she wasn’t interested.


I peered under the bed one final time after making sure she was asleep. I didn’t want her thinking I felt scared too.


What I saw when I looked under there, I'm still not sure.


It wasn’t a person, or an animal, I’m not sure it even had a face. But it was something. As quick as I looked up to make sure she was still sleeping, and then looked backed under the bed, it was gone.


I wasn’t as scared as I felt I should’ve been. Was it my imagination playing tricks on me, or was something under there. One thing I do remember about the figure was that it almost looked sad, like it felt bad for being a monster under the bed. I’m not sure how else to describe it and I only saw it for a second, but I’ll never forget it.


I never told my sister about what I saw. Who knows what kind of fucked up childhood that would have given her, well on top of the one we already had.


About a week later, my dad left. I wasn’t that surprised. When your parents are always yelling and screaming, you more start to wonder why one hasn’t left already.


My dad leaving ended up being one of the best things for our family. I hate to say it, but it’s his fault the first ten years of my life were so terrible.


It must have woken my mom up too, because she changed. She became the best, most loving, amazing mom I could have ever asked for. She only had one rule, we weren't to talk about dad.


That was fine with us since neither of us were too fond of him. It’s hard to when because of him we had to find new ways to cover up our bruises before school every day. I got good at makeup effects because of that, so I guess thanks dad.


My sister and I ended up having a rather normal life after all that. Which is why I got confused when I received a call from her last night in tears.


It took some time for me to calm her down. She told me that she started having nightmares, very vivid nightmares. I assured her there was nothing to worry about. It was most likely stress from school or work and it would all sort itself out. She wasn’t having it. She told me the dreams didn’t feel like dreams.


Unfortunately, I knew exactly what she was talking about. I’ve had dreams like this. The best way to describe it is lucid dreams that you can’t control and are fucking terrifying. They started to happen to me after I saw that figure under her bed. Over the years they calmed down and I chocked them up to reaction to seeing something I didn’t understand.


My nightmares consisted of nonsense. A chaos of noises, with shapes blurring across my vision. They happened at least once a month at first, then slowed down to once a year at most. Each nightmare was different, but one thing stayed true in each of them. I saw that figure, and right after, I would wake up in a cold sweat. They stopped the day I met my wife. I know that sounds like crap, but she has been a blessing in my life and kept my head on straight.


So, when my sister told me that the nightmares ended with a faceless figure staring at her, I knew this wasn’t only a coincidence. This figure that haunted me since I saw it all those years ago, was now after her.


I had no other choice but to tell her what I saw all those years ago. She thought I was making fun of her and hung up the phone. I tried to call back over and over until finally she answered the phone.


“What do you want? I am sorry I bothered you, I forgot that nothing scares you.” I tried to be careful, “I wasn’t making fun of you. I was serious, I never told you, well because I thought it would scare you and I wasn’t sure of what I saw.”


She calmed down and I told her my help was genuine. I asked her if anything weird or abnormal had happened lately, any big change in her life.


My little sister is great at avoiding a question. She wants people to like her, so won’t admit when something is bothering her. This time, she didn’t hold back one bit. All she said was, “Matt.”


Matt, if I am correct, is her newest boyfriend. I asked what about Matt. She went on to explain how when they got together, he was perfect, the best boyfriend she could have asked for. She proceeded to give details I did not want to hear, but I let her finish since she was already so shaken up.


What she told me next got me ready to jump out of my chair and go find this asshole. A few months into their relationship, he deemed it acceptable to start beating her. It started by holding her back with force, and then to full on punches. I could only remember what we went through before and wondered to myself if she remembered.


“It’s not only that, it’s more…something happened.” I told her to go on, I needed her to get it all out so I knew how much I needed to kick this guy’s ass. “Well we were fighting one night, and I told him to leave, I tried to break up with him. He wouldn’t stop, told me I need him…” She went silent.


“Hello? Hey you there? Are you all right, what’s going on sis?” Then I heard a cry from the other side of the phone. “I don’t know what happened next, it sounds crazy.” I assured her that I am aware of what crazy sounds like. She continued, “He was coming at me, and right before he could hit me, I saw something, I… I don’t know what it is, but it got rid of him.”


“What do you mean, got rid of him? What did it look like?” I couldn’t help but want to know more. Why didn’t she call me when this happened? Why did she wait until the nightmares? “Well it was a black figure, it looked mad, but not at me, at him. I don’t know what happened to Matt, but he’s gone.”


“Is that when you started having the nightmares? After all that happened?” I didn’t need her response to know the answer. I told her she could stay the night for a few weeks until she feels comfortable again.


I still don't know what exactly that figure was, or why it was under her bed 15 years ago. All I do know is that it helped us get away from our father, and got that piece of shit Matt away from my sister.


Perhaps all the monsters under the bed aren’t all bad, maybe some are there to protect us from the real horror out there.

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