INSERTED (Being Edited)

24) Monster Under The Bed (Glen)

Rain droplets hit the tent as I lie awake on the tent floor. The bonfires that were lit earlier are most likely are out now or getting there. I run my hands along the gun I have in my hands. I feel the groove of trigger on my fingertips. The feeling calms me. As long as I know I have a weapon in my possession, I feel secure. I feel in control. Maybe that is the chip in me, maybe it is my paranoia. I don’t really know, nor do I care.

At this point in time, sleeping is impossible for me to. Every time I close my eyes, I see Delilah staring at me; then this anger starts to take grip of me. I killed the men responsible for her death, but no matter how many people kill, it’ll never bring her back. That’s probably what pisses me off the most. No matter how hard I try to avenge Delilah, Kelly, Mom, or Dad’s death, it will never bring them back to life. All I have is rage inside of me. That’s all I’ve ever had even when life was good. I was always mad about something as a child. I could never appreciate what I had. I do now.

I hear Lee-Ann stir in her cot above me. I glance upwards to look at her. A strand of her brown hair has fallen off her pillow, and is hanging down off the cot. This was the fifth time she has stirred tonight. I sit up and put the gun down in my lap. I run my fingers through my hair and try to get all these thoughts out of my brain, which is a waste of time considering I haven’t been able to stop my brain from thinking on a spiral for years. I lie back down, and tuck the pistol I had in my lap under my pillow.

There is one thing that always helps me sleep; it has since I was in the cradle. My mother had one of the most beautiful singing voices I’d ever heard in my life. She made up this lullaby for me when I was born. Some of the best memories of my childhood come from that song. When I turned eight years old, I refused to let her sing it to me anymore. I’m pretty sure that broke her heart. I wanted to be a man, and men didn’t get sung to sleep by their mothers. What she didn’t know is that I had every word, melody, and quiver of that song memorized. I would play it in my head every time I tried to sleep.

I close my eyes and the song starts playing in my head. It’s not the actual thing, but it’s still my mother. I can hear my mother’s voice, and that brings me more comfort that any gun could.

Sleep, sleep my little son

Sleep, sleep the night away

Dream, dream of the rising sun

Dream, dream of a new day

Sleep, sleep my only son

Sleep, sleep every night this way

 

I wake up to the sound of screaming and crying beside me. I shoot straight up off the floor, alert and ready to go. It takes me a while to register that it’s Lee-Ann. She’s still lying on the cot sleeping. She must be having a nightmare. She is mumbling words and rolling around as if she was on fire.

“No! Mommy! No! Don’t hurt her!” I look down at my feet and realize what her nightmare is about. It’s about me.

“Please don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! I’m sorry!” Realization creeps up on me. I’m the nightmares she dreams at night, I’m the thing that haunts her every day of her life, and I’m the monster under her bed. I have to turn away from her or get out of this tent. I’m not exactly sure who this nightmare it effecting more, me or her.

I feel the burning in my eyes that threaten me with tears. I shake my head and tighten my jaw. I was not going to let this happen to me. It was Greyson’s fault that I had to feel this guilt, that Lee-Ann, I, and thousands of others lost their families. He was the true monster. I tell myself this all the time and I know it’s true, but the guilt never stops. I blame myself for everything that has happened in this world. If I wouldn’t have shot that man who killed my mother and sister, Greyson would never have chipped me. I wouldn’t be this monster I am right now. I’d probably be dead with the rest of my family. I would be wherever they are, and have nothing to do with this fucked up world. That wasn’t the way things went though. This was my life. This was who I was, and I had to live with it, the guilt, the pain, the rage, and the love that I refused to feel.