i was never one of those children to believe in monsters under my bed.

luckily for those kids, their monsters weren’t real and disappeared at the feathered touch of comfort from a parent.

every monster i encountered was someone i knew. someone real.

so real that their existence is still here, in the shape of a sickly cold shadow in the corner of my memory that oozes the events of the worst battles i have ever faced, drowning me.

real monsters aren’t the ones we see in movies or here in books or tales.

real monsters are the ones who promise to protect us but treat us way worse than anyone else ever could.

»a.n.o’h