Description
Close your windows. Draw your curtains. Lock your doors. And most importantly, when the sun sets, get inside. That's what my grandma used to tell me anyway. She loved to tell stories. Even at the very end, she used her last breath to tell me her favorite tale. The creatures of the night. As a kid it scared me so much. I would make my mom check under the bed and my closet for monsters. I slept with a nightlight until I was fourteen. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night swearing I saw something in the darkness of my room and using that as an excuse to crawl into my mother's bed. Finally enough was enough and my mom banned grandma from telling me that story. As I got older the fear faded away. I learned the real monsters didn't have fangs or supernatural powers. They looked just like you and me, and they walked among us. Maybe it was that man you saw in line while you were ordering coffee. Maybe it was the seemingly nice bookstore clerk. Maybe it was your own sister or brother or cousin. Or maybe... Maybe my grandma was right all along.
before
