How To Trap A Monster

With teeth and claws

I don't know what woke me that night, perhaps it was the subliminal sound of an owl hooting outside my bedroom window, or it could have just been a mother's  intuition. Either way, I awoke to full dark without any moonlight to see by. Unsettled, I decided a cup of warm milk would do the trick and carefully extricated myself from the bed without waking my husband. 

I remember shivering when my bare feet touched the floor, how gooseflesh prickled my arms and legs.  Stepping lightly I wove around the bed and dresser until I reached the hallway. We always keep nightlights lit in case our son has to go to the bathroom late at night (or us for that matter) so I was more than a little shocked that not a single one was lit. I bent down to examine one when my son reached out in the darkness and stilled my hand. I almost screamed but Noah put his other hand over my mouth. "Shhhhhh! Mommy, the monster will hear you." He whispered so softly I almost didn't hear him at all. I nodded conspiratorially and he removed his hand from my mouth, then began pulling me into his room. I followed obediently, the "monster" was a new thing, only the past couple weeks or so, but each week seemed to drive more fear and irrational behavior in my son's nightly routine. 

He sat down on his bed and turned on the bedside lamp. I immediately noticed blood dripping down his neck and raced to his side. "Noah what happened?" I said as I went into full mommy mode grabbing a blanket to stop the blood flow and get a better look at the injury. "T-t-t-t-the mo-mon-st-ster." My son's sweet little face was drawn and pale, his green eyes looked leached of their normal vibrancy. I didn't respond, just kept cleaning and what I saw staggered me. It was a bite mark. Now I know what your thinking but the location was impossible to self-harm, someone or something did this and now my terror mirrored his own.

 Milk forgotten, I bandaged my son's neck, brought him to our bed, and held him tight. When we woke up the next morning his pallid color was in stark relief. I told my husband what happened and we both decided it would probably be best to take Noah to the hospital to run some tests on the bite mark and make sure he didn't catch any diseases. We ate a hasty breakfast and got dressed to go. Noah tugged on my sleeve and I bent down to be eye level. "Whatever happens don't leave me at the hospital ok?" He asked, tears shining in his already bloodshot eyes. I wasn't sure that was a promise I could keep so I assured him no matter what happened I would stay by his side and he calmed immediately. 

The drive was somber, each in our own heads processing. The weather was pleasant though, blue skies and clouds that looked like cotton candy. People casually strolling down the sidewalk or walking their dogs. I couldn't enjoy those simple sights though, a deep foreboding had nestled in my chest, weighing me down with a dread I could not articulate. We arrived at the St. James Hospital at 7:30am sharp. My husband and I flanked my son's side, each holding one of his clammy hands. The nurse at the counter was young, probably fresh out of nursing school with long dark hair and warm brown eyes. She smiled at Noah and extended an olive branch, a cherry lollipop. 

Noah was polite and said thank you. He tried to smile but it came out more like a  grimace. The nurse then handed me a clipboard while my husband dealt with insurance cards. We took a seat in the lobby and I let Noah play games on my phone while I filled out enough forms to make me blind. I gave it back and was told to just wait for our names to be called.  The doctor came over a few minutes later and greeted us both. Dr. Nelson had been Noah's pediatric primary care giver since he was born and when he saw how pale and listless he was his face grew grave and concerned. 

"Noah can you tell me what happened?" He asked gently. 

Noah sighed like he already knew the doctor wouldn't believe him.  It broke my heart to see such resignation in a child so young. It made him seem years older than his actual 7 and a 1/2. I squeezed his hand in support and he told the doctor exactly what happened. Of course Dr. Nelson assumed it was a metaphor for a feral animal attack, I could see the gears turning in his mind. "Lets go back to a exam room and I can take a look at that bite ok bud?" Dr. Nelson asked. Noah nodded and stood up, clenching my hand almost painfully tight.