Remember as a kid, trying to convince your parents that there were monsters in your room but they were never there? Or when they were there, because you were still dreaming, the monsters convinced your parents they were friendly-little things, shooting you evil Cheshire grins when they weren’t looking? Attacking you once your parents left? In a cold sweat, you woke in time to see them slither into the closet shadows and you timidly shut the door behind them.
Now, they show up everywhere. At work, at home, at the store. In the car, walking home. I mean, they aren’t there at first, at least. No, you think they aren’t there. It isn’t until the grownups show up that they reveal they’re ugly heads, laughing up at you. What’s this? The grownups say. How did this happen? Where did this come from?
I don’t know. You say. It wasn’t there a second ago. I could have sworn that I did what I was told. I’m pretty sure that I followed what you told me to do.
I could have sworn I put that up. I was sure I just fixed that a second ago. I checked that not even a minute ago and it was fine. I’ve been paying attention this entire time but somehow-
The grownups shake their heads. They turn away. He’s an idiot. He’s a moron. Doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not paying attention. Worthless.
You turn and look at your work. You look at your hands. You stare at the wall. And the monsters shoot you those grins. And you don’t know it, and you can’t do anything about it. It’s contagious. A grin stretching across your face; foam dripping down your chin. Now, they’ve gone and done it.
They’ve made a monster out of you. After all these years, you were the monster in the closet all along.
You had it coming.