Jerry And The Monsters

JERRY AND THE MONSTERS
by Matthew Sanborn Smith

Jerry kept his clothes piled on top of the bed. There were so many monsters in the closet, he couldn't fit anything else in there. His parents scolded him for the mess on his bed. They opened the closet door to show him that there were no monsters in the closet. The monsters ate them.

Jerry didn't leave. He had no where else to go. He wasn't afraid of the monsters, he just wanted them gone. They took up too much room. And they had eaten his parents. That was supposed to be bad too.

He tried starving them out, but that didn't work. There were too many nosy friends, social workers, and police officers looking in the closet for that too happen. If anything, the monsters were getting fat and taking up even more room. Too make things worse, Jerry's room stank of monster poo.

When he'd had enough, he went to the closet. He planned to drag them out if he had to. Jerry opened the door and lunged for the nearest lump of prickly fur. It shrank back, even in those tight quarters. He reached for a green and glossy hoof which pulled back startled like a doe's. There was a reason the monsters stayed in the closet. They were afraid of him.

Jerry closed the door again, left his hand on the big metal knob until the coldness left it. He got boards and nails from the shed and sealed the closet permanently. After one more look at his childhood, he closed his bedroom as well and slept in his parents room after that, on the other side of the house where he couldn't hear the low moans of the sad, dying things.