This post was written for the Weekly Writing Challenge. This week’s challenge was to write from the perspective of someone else. Being a lover of all things dark, I chose to write from the perspective of the boogieman.
All I want is a friend, but everywhere I go kids run away screaming, or cry for Mommy or Daddy. I’m usually so quiet that they shouldn’t even know I’m there, but somehow they almost always wake up. I don’t know why it happens so much, but it does. I almost always hide when they wake up. I wait as patiently as possible for an opportunity to sneak back into the closet. Sometimes I have to hide in the toy box for hours before that chance comes. Have you ever been inside a toy box? It’s dreadfully cramped in those things, especially when they’re packed with toys with jagged edges. The worst, though, is when they leave Legos on the floor. I can’t tell you how many of those I’ve stepped on. I remember how much easier it was to get in and out before those horrible things were invented.
There’ve only been a couple instances, very few and very far between, when a child hasn’t been scared witless by the mere sight of me. Those were the ones I became friends with, but sadly they’ve all grown up. Each of those special children holds a dear place in my heart. Unfortunately, there comes a time in every child’s life when reality must sink in and they suddenly become an adult. When that happens, I fade into obscurity rather quickly and they’re left wondering if I ever existed at all. That’s why I’m always popping into the rooms of random children. Most people assume I get my jollies scaring the young humans, but that’s not me at all. I’m just searching for a friend.