Let me tell you about the beast.
Pale and ugly was it. Whispering, mumbling. It looked at me with those pit black eyes.
I saw it. I thought some dog came into my room somehow, but dogs don't talk. They don't whisper.
I did what any child would have done. I hid beneath my blanket and fell asleep.
I told my mom the next day and she said to stop making up such nonsenses. Monsters don't exist. She said I was just
trying to get attention like I always do.
It came to me night after night. No one would believe me.
One day I woke up to find that one of our cats was torn to pieces. I told my parents that the monster did it, but they did not believe me. They thought that some teenager or dog must have killed the cat. Not some made up monster.
We moved away from that house. Away from that monster.
So why the hell am I just remembering all this as of now?
I thought the nightmares would end.
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