The Devil Under My Bed

Rifling through some old papers I stumble across something I’ve not seen in a long time.

I dare not touch it, nor do I even entertain the thought of what’s inside, it seems there really are monsters under our beds…

Slowly I begin to feel numb as it sits and stares at me while I continue my search for specific documents.

It taunts me.

I can hear their laughter and slander, it echoes in my mind like a howling scream in a windy canyon. Nothing makes it stop, the louder I play the music the clearer I can hear all those voices. I can’t even close my eyes because each time I do I’m greeted by them, even after I removed every possible reminder there was still one I forgot.

It seems another bargain must be made…

I can only forget, but in exchange a memory is etched into our very soul.

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