HumpDay Quickie #105

Posted: May 4, 2016 in Hump-Day Quickies
Tags: , , , ,

What They Expect of a Monster

By Sal Page

They took Mother away, treating her like a bag of garbage, loading up the van, pulling tarpaulin over. She’d have hated the manhandling, the laughter and jokes. They didn’t know I was here. She’d protected me well, right up to her dying day.
We’re not like the others. We’ve had to hide ourselves away, safe from folk who stared at us, shocked and repulsed. Once I would peep from behind mother’s batwing arms to admire their blond curls, delicate noses and sylph-like bodies.
I hid in shadows when those boys come down here to smoke and drink. They talked and laughed. I got used to their company, even though they were unaware of my presence.
Then – I was careless – they saw me. I tried to greet them but our smiles have never worked. I’ve only ever had one pair of teeth. Stunned at first, together they were fearless, calling me names, throwing sharpened sticks, stinging stones and half-bricks. They crept close to me, then dodged away laughing. I’d lash out, angry and confused. Their laughter echoed as if there were a hundred boys rather than a dozen. They tried to lift the massive stone that hid mother’s treasures but none was strong enough.
Night after night they returned. They lit a fire, filled bottles with petrol and threw them, setting my clothes alight. I lay steaming in a puddle to put them out. They stood in the shadows chanting.

Evil Old Hag.

I’ve been in this puddle for ages; at rock bottom and my tether’s end. Darkness falls and the boys gradually drift away. I bide my time till just a pair linger, poking at the fire’s embers. I drag myself out of my puddle and fetch mother’s hacksaw from under the stone.
They’re weedy little kids really. I nail these up to warn the others off.
This is my space. My home. It’s what they expect of a monster. Just like mother before me.
No. Not quite. She nailed up the heads. Call me over-sensitive – squeamish even – but I just couldn’t.
Their limbs swing. Blood drips down as the sun comes up.


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