We all got scared, being kids, the monster under the bed. Blame the big bad wolf stories that we told our mom before going to bed, first interpretation of evil against good. And evil is black, is known. Yet, I never thought there was a monster under my bed. No Bogey in the cupboard either. Just dust. And bits of biscuit. Hum. Mom will not be happy. I sometimes watched, never impressed. But I do not leave my feet too close to the bed, once these tall tales are true. It should not be the monster grabs my legs and drags me under the bed ... for what, really?
All the elements were there to maintain my fear. I went to bed, I snuggled against my teddy, and closed my eyes. It was dark in the room. Only the pale light of the moon creates shadows that seemed to move around the room.
And suddenly, boom. Boom.
bumping. Repetitive. Someone climbs the stairs. Boom.
Boom.
bang.
I breathe slowly.
bang.
fucking ch'ui con: it's my heart beating I hear!
So I realized early on that the monsters hiding under the bed are just crap. Stuff grandmother as Mary Groet, or the spider-legged wooden ceiling cap, intended to keep the kids in awe and so peaceful. Still, one day, something strange happened, and was repeated. Do you believe in ghosts ..?
