Posted in Short Story Sunday, Writing, Writing Prompts

Short Story Sunday 130: Watchers (Part Two)

Read Part One.

            I pulled the blankets over my head and squeezed my eyes shut willing for the second pair of eyes to go away. It was bad enough there were now two monsters staring at me, but the second pair of eyes was a deep golden color. The eyes were bigger than the other monster’s and the pupils were thin and looked like diamonds. It was much scarier than the other monster, whatever it was.

But that was it. This monster had been coming to my room every night for a week and now more were coming. I had to get rid of it once and for all.

I finally peeked over my blankets. Sure enough, four yellow eyes were still burning into my own gaze. I kicked the covers off of myself and reached down over the side of my bed. I had a plastic baseball bat to play wiffle-ball with my Dad. Whatever these monsters were doing, I would get rid of them. I could at least try to knock them out so they couldn’t run when I asked my Dad to come back into my bedroom to help me get rid of them.

Drawing in a deep breath, I swung my legs over the side of my bed, my knuckles turning white from gripping the bat so tight. I hopped off my bed inched my way closer to the closet with the bat high above my head as though I was waiting for a curve ball to be thrown at me.

I stared intently at the four eyes and each one of them slowly blinked as I made my way closer to them.

They blinked again. I swallowed a dry lump in my throat.

The first pair of eyes grew bigger. I stopped walking and held my breath. Did it grow bigger in size? Or was it coming towards me?

It stopped. So I took another deep breath for courage and stepped forward once more.

The closet door was already open since Dad forgot to close it all the way. He knew I liked it closed all the way, but it didn’t seem to matter anyway. The yellow eyes were going to come back no matter what. And they were able to open the door themselves anyway.

My closet door seemed so far away. My arms were getting tired from holding the bat up in the air. I wasn’t even sure if the bat would do anything to the monsters. I wasn’t sure if I would be strong enough to hit them or even have enough guts to swing the bat.

But when I finally made it to the closet I craned my neck to look up. Both pairs of yellow eyes were nearly as high as the ceiling. My mouth gaped open and I lowered my baseball bat. My breathing turned shallow and my neck ached as I stared up with wide eyes at the two monsters before me.

It was darker in my closet. I couldn’t see any form of body in front of me other than the four yellow eyes staring down at me. Neither one of them moved, only blinked now and then. They didn’t seem as though they were going to make the first move.

I gripped my bat tighter, but it still remained by my side. One part of my brain was trying to tell my arms to swing the bat, but my muscles weren’t cooperating. The other part of my brain was screaming at me to run, to go crawl in bed with Dad and hope the monsters wouldn’t go into his bedroom.

I took a step backwards. What was I doing? I couldn’t take on any monsters. Even if I did have the courage to whack them with the bat, it would only make them angry and I would certainly lose that battle.

But what were they doing here? What did they want? Why did they just stand in my closet and watch me? Even now as I stood directly in front of them they didn’t do anything to me. I didn’t get it.

Finally, something took over me, and I leaned the baseball bat up against the wall next to my closet door. I took another step forward and reached my arm out.

Dad had to have been right. There were no such things as monsters. Whatever was in my closet was a figment of my imagination. Maybe I was already asleep and I was dreaming. I had the same dream every night for the past week. My subconscious was trying to tell me something.

But as I reached my arms out further, I glanced up and noticed the four eyes followed my arm watching silently.

Then I touched something. Something soft, something furry.

And I heard a low growl coming from right in front of me.

Words: 807

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Author:

Born and raised in Massachusetts, Rachel Poli is a writer and blogger. She has an associate’s degree in Early Childhood Education and a bachelor’s degree in English Studies. She enjoys writing young adult novels, middle-grade, and children’s picture books. She is currently working on her first novel.

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