Daddy, There’s Something Under My Bed

Daddy, there’s something under my bed

By Joseph Parish

Children and sometime adults possess a habitual fear that some manner of monster may be lurking under their bed once the lights have been turned out and sleep slowly overtakes their bodies. If you doubt my word, you simply have to approach your own children and they will substantiate the existence of such monsters. If you currently have no children at this time the probability is good that you will have to deal with these concerns at some future point in time. The monsters lurking under the bed are an abiding phobia for many small children. No one is certain how these monsters get under the bed, but they manage to do so in the best of homes. These bogeyman creatures have resided in the same rooms as children for centuries. There is a host of dissimilar boogieman versions from around the world, ranging from the Latin countries “Sack Men” to the French “Hand-Cruncher.” My whimsical tale is distinctively diverse as you shall soon perceive and it has arrived just in time for the Halloween season.

I was taught at a very tender age that the world was a scary place for children like me. We are safe nowhere including our own bedroom. As a child of four or five everything I observed and heard was new to me at one point and it was up to me to discover whether it posed a threat or not. I remember a time in my early youthful days when the act of just going to bed at night developed into a living nightmare. The horrible event always took place precisely at 10 PM every night. I would no sooner get comfortable in my bed than the sounds would begin. I would start to perceive strange noises which originated from under my bed. I was never able to distinguish any specific words, but merely would detect muffled sounds. On certain occasions, I could swear that the creatures beneath my bed would emerge as shadows and begin dancing eerily upon my bedroom floor. As the sounds continued to disturb me, I would crawl under my cozy blanket and without haste cover my head, hoping if it could not see me than it would just go away. Solutions for a child, however, are never that simple therefore unfortunately; it remained to haunt me for what seemed like hours. Eventually, I fell asleep and remained so for the remainder of the night. Like clockwork at the crack of dawn the mysterious sounds would always go away only to return once again as the clock struck ten. As usual the following morning at breakfast all I could hear from my father was “there are no monsters under the beds in this house.”

After what appeared to be an eternity, my nightfall fears escalated so severe that I found it crucial to cry out to my father in the hopes that he could finally put an end to the noises from below my mattress and to halt my nocturnal suffering. At my insistence my father would come into my bedroom and calm my uncertainties as to monsters coming after me. He would soothingly kiss my forehead and vigilantly tuck me into bed making certain that my blankets were secured under the edges of the bed mattress while guaranteeing me that there was nothing that I should be worried about. His famous words were “Under bed monsters do not exist tonight." He would say this with a slight smile on his face, however, once he had departed the confines my room and the lights were once again turned down the mischievous sounds would begin emanating once again.

At my insistence, I would fearfully shout, “Daddy, please would you check for monsters hiding under my bed again.”

In response to my frightful cries he would get down on his knees and glance under the bed, then look up at me, confirming that nothing was there. Still, I felt frightened and would insist that some monsters are still hiding under there and again begin to cry. At this annoyance he would tell me to look under the bed myself relating how he knew perfectly well that nothing was hidden there. He wanted me to attest to myself that the only things that may be under my bed were a few scattered dust bunnies. With that being said I slowly hunched over the bed until I could clearly see under it. My head was but an inch or so from the floor at this time. Much to my surprise, I witnessed a vision of my “father” along with a duplicate “me” hiding under the bed while staring out trembling and whispering, “Daddy there’s somebody “on” my bed.” After experiencing this episode of the monster under the bed, I never asked for my father to check beneath my bed ever again.

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