Monsters Aren’t Real

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As Emilia drifted into her dreams, she heard a whisper in her room, that did not sound like her father’s familiar voice. Another whisper, this one different. Her eyes quickly shot open. She wasn’t alone. Firmly holding onto her plush cat Morning, she jumped out of bed and spurted towards the door. She reached up, turned the handle, and ran down the hallway towards her father’s study.

“Daddy! Daddy! There is something in my room,” she said, almost stumbling over her own words. “There is a monster in my room!” Setting down his newspaper, her father looked at her through his big, round reading glasses. Cecil, who was purring on his lap, yawned.

“It looks to me, that there is a little monster in my room,” he said with his eyebrows raised.

“No, really, really! I heard it!” she pleaded. For extra emphasis, she added, “I promise.”

“Alright then,” he said as he got up from his chair and Cecil jumped from his lap to the floor.

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