by Sarah Earlene Shere, ©2024
(Jan. 27, 2024) — I layed very still. My mommy and daddy said the monster wasn’t real. But, alone in the dark, I could hear it breathing. I threw the cover over my head and hoped it would go away. I heard footsteps and held my breath. When I was sure the footsteps had walked away, I peered out. I stared up at the ceiling, afraid of the monster that lived over my bed.
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Little Tommy didn’t feel comforted by his father insisting that there was no monster under his bed. He knew it was real. He threw his cover over his head and hoped it would go away.
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Isn’t it sad the way that so many children live in fear? They’re afraid of the unknown, what they cannot see, afraid of those who are different than them. Isn’t it sad that children live that way?