And They'll Sing a Lullaby


"Monsters aren't real!" they tell you, but they don't know what lurks below their bed, in the darkest, farthest, corner of their closet, behind the curtain's curve, or just outside their bedroom door. They laugh your fears off; "You've had too little sleep," they say. Overly imaginative, even delusional they call you. But, my dearest child, do they feel what you feel? See what you see? Hear what you hear? Smell what you smell? Taste what you taste?

No, my dearest child, they do not, not like me. Do they feel the pinpricks of their presences? Feel the chill that resonates with their coming? Can they feel the fluttering in their chest when they realize there is no escape? Do they see the figures dart around the corner of their eyes? See the shadows morph and grow as they seep into their room to play? Can they see the pallid, sunken, dull eyes of the creatures when they come to chat? Do they hear their manic never-ending whispers? Hear their screams repeat over and over as they will for eternity? Can they hear them when they come, demanding your attention, your will, your life? Do they smell the decay, of always rotting bodies? Smell the repulsive mediums of the trillions of ways to die? Can they smell the sweat that trickles down your trembling body when they frighten you?

What? Ha! Ha! Ha! You got me there, dearest child, I'm sure they can smell you! Now my dearest pet you must let me continue, yes? You are still interested, aren't you? Oh, hush now, dearest child. I'm just teasing, I will not stop. Now…

Do they taste the bitter sweetness of death hanging thick in the air surrounding them? Taste the dryness of your mouth, when fear steals your speech? Can they taste the tang of metal, smoke, poison, and dirt permeating your mouth from their very being? No! They can not! Not those fools! They are closed off to the other world, ignorant of the horrors and terrors and the beauty, yes my dear, beauty does lie within death.

Now, I know you do not believe me now, but someday… You will be able to see it yourself. We have more than enough time to come and appreciate the quietness and stillness possessed by the deceased, and oh! Their endless patience! If you learn anything from them my child, be it patience. It is a skill I did not see value in during my youth. Now look at me! I can hardly contain myself from out right squeezing you! I've been incapable of resting, no, I could not, not until another like us–you–came to me.

What? Oh no my dearest! You mustn't tell a soul! Not even that Papa of yours, he'll think I've corrupted his ange. Hm? Yes, he does know, that is why I tell you to keep it to yourself my child. I learned the hard way, no one will except our… gift. It is too frightening to their simple minds. Think of that brother of yours, he is terrified of ghosts! But has he ever seen one? No! He's terrified by the very thought and by the crude tales told about them. Now, child, just imagine what would happen if he knew about your lovely gift. Yes, yes, quite right, he would indeed "freak out". Ha! He would make you check below his bed every night, wouldn't he?

Now be done with this silliness. I need your solemn oath that you will not breath a word of this outside this room, not even on your death bed my dearest child. Shh… No tears, my child, it is not a curse to be burdened with this secret. Think of it as your own private joke. When others speak of the creatures lurking in the shadows and tell outrageous tales you can smile and laugh at the absurdity of it all. Because, you my only, my dearest, know the truth. The dead, the ghosts, the spirits, the poltergeists, the demons, are much more than silly tales. Oh child! Of course! You can come to me whenever you are frightened, hurt, angry, or confused by what they do. They can be quite quizzical, these beings.

Love me? How– Child you do not need to force yourself to love me for telling you the truth of your gift. I'm simply doing my part, you are kin, my dearest child. You want to? Oh child… I love you as well, but this must be kept bound and sealed. Your gift, your love, both would not be understood at this time. Hush child, I have you, you are safe. I will warn them against frightening you for the time, but I command you to learn your own methods to cope with them. I will not give you mine, they are for you to figure out on your own. A song? You want me to sing? Oh, my dearest, I can not deny you.

Weightless lips kiss your drowsy eyes, ghastly grins await you when you wake,

Sleep, dearest child,

Do not fear, they'll sing you songs forgotten by the living you know not,

Therefore sleep,

While they o'er you watch and keep,

Sleep, pretty dearest,

Do not fear,

And they'll sing a lullaby


I was trying out a new style, what do you think? Do you like it? Dislike it? Please review!

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.

EDITED: 2/19/16