When The Monster Comes | Completed

Chapter 1

In a park somewhere in Wisconsin, Timmy Manson ran across the field to his mother.

"Mom, Mom, look! I found you a dandelion!"

The park was cool and colorful. The leaves were a deep viridian, casting a sea of green above the denizens of the area. Squirrels bustled about, scampering down trees and collecting nuts. The sky above them was clear of all clouds, allowing the sun to paint the world in its light. A few other children played in the park as well, their parents never all that far away. It was, all in all, as perfect an August day as a mother and her son could ask for.

Timmy's short legs waddled beneath him as he approached the park bench at the edge of the mulch. His left hand, not needing to hold the flower, held his bucket-helmet to his head. When his mother's green eyes met his gaze, her expression changed from one of inquiry to one of absolute delight.

"You did?" she exclaimed as he ran. Finally, Timmy reached her, and he held the dandelion out for her. When she took it, she inspected closely, even though she knew it was a perfectly ordinary dandelion. "Wow, this is beautiful, Timmy. Thank you so much!"

Timmy grinned wildly at the praise. As he did, he took a second to adjust the precious equipment that had come loose while he was running. His fingers were short and untrained, but he was more than capable of tucking his blanket-cape back into his t-shirt and refastening his bucket-helmet to his head. Just to be safe, he checked to make sure his flashlight was still in his back pocket, and smiled all over again when he found that it was.

"Mom, Mr. Easybreeze and I are going to go explore in that forest over there!" Timmy said, pointing to the brush near the park.

Timmy's mother looked vaguely in the direction of the forest. "That sounds great, Timmy. Just don't be too long. I want to be able to get you ready for school tomorrow."

"Okay!" Timmy said as he gave his mom a hug. Climbing off of her, he took his flashlight out and gestured to some unseen entity. "Come on, Mr. Easybreeze! Let's go find that Raree Bird!"

And so off he went, flashlight waving in his hand and beckoning to his imaginary friend. Timmy's mother, Caroline, watched from the bench, brown hair fluttering in the wind. On her lap was a copy of How to Help Your Child Transition to First Grade: Single Moms Edition. It was a small, light book, less than a hundred pages long. It couldn't have weighed more than a quarter of a pound; it was practically a magazine. But it threatened to crush her at any moment.

Caroline sighed. Things would have been so much easier if Fred was still around. She knew that, but she kept it like a secret. It was as if not saying it would make it any less true. It didn't matter, though. Her husband was dead. And she had to take care of Timmy on her own now.

Looking around the park, Caroline saw a lot of moms watching after their sons. It should've made her feel better, knowing that she wasn't the only one, but it didn't. Because there were a few dads too, playing catch or pushing their child on a swing set. It made her heart ache, but not out of loneliness. Fred really loved Timmy, but now he would get to never see their son grow up.

Thinking of Timmy, she wondered how he was processing the whole thing. A lot of kids his age would be withdrawn for years on end if their father suddenly passed away, and for a while it seemed like that might happen with her son. Yet, one day Timmy perked up. He said he could be happy because he knew that what hurt his dad wasn't ever going to hurt them again. And, sure, to an extent that was true, the man who crashed into Fred had been put in jail for drunk driving. But that was months before Timmy said anything. So she wondered where he got that from.

Caroline shook her head at herself. Timmy was just a kid, after all. It was amazing he could process all of it in such a positive way to begin with. And here she was, worrying over every little thing on a beautiful day like this. She thought herself perhaps the only person who would do something like that.

Just then, she felt a gripping in her chest, and her breathe began to stagger.

No, she thought, not now. C'mon, Caroline, not now.

But it wasn't of any use. Her eyes welled withtears as the panic continued to seize her. Her grip on the arm rest beside hergrew tighter and tighter, her hand fighting to keep the tingling at bay. Andwhile Caroline fought her silent battle, towing the line against an invisiblefoe, Timmy wandered farther and farther into the sticks and leaves, until soon he was out of sight, out of earshot, and alone.