At first, Mary explained the squeaky noises from the door, on tequila.
Not because she was drunk, but because her and her best friend had done shots, celebrating the end of a school year. She wasn't drunk. Just… tipsy. Yeah, tipsy.
Mary liked that word.
But then she actually heard it again, she was sure, the little annoying noise that knifed through her poor, sensitive head. She sat straight up in the bed, looking at the door.
Why is the closet-door squeaking? Is this a metaphor, am I gay? Is my Inner-Self trying to tell me something?
The squeaky-noise stopped and was replaced by a heavy 'whump'.
"Uhm.. Hello?" Mary called out, into the empty room. "Anyone there? Anyone in my... closet?"
What am I doing, talking to a stupid door in the early hours of the stupid night! Jesus, Mary, don't lose it. It's just a squeaky door.
The door began to squeak again.
Oh, but it's so annoying!
"Hey," she said, pointing a finger at the closet-door. "If you're a thief in there, and you're going to rob me or anything irrational, will you please, not murder me in horrible ways? Or just don't murder me at all."
"Boo?" a deep voice answered.
"What?" Mary whispered, her eye twitching violently.
"Boo?!" the deep voice called again.
Mary considered if she had the worst bogeyman of all history hiding in her closet, or if she was just dreaming, before the door slammed open.
Then she shrieked.
"Wow! Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop it, stop!" the greenish blue monster interrupted, trying to calm the girl. "It's okay, it's me, just me!"
"Who the hell are you?" Mary whispered furiously. "I am totally not allowed to have a monster in my room! My mom already went berserk 'cause of that dog that followed me home last month and died on the front yard!"
"Uhm.." the monster replied.
"I've got it," Mary announced, snapping her fingers. "You're a hallucination! Totally heard about those, never had one actually."
Sully shook his head, in disbelief. She was all grown up, she forgot. He was about to stutter some meaningless gibberish but Mary interrupted.
"Dude, I must be on one wild ride then. What did I take? I'm so irrational sometimes, only does the stupid stuff because I can! I wickedly need a psychologist, someone please fix my head, and why am I talking to an imaginary monster?"
Why am I rambling? Shut up Mary, you're dreaming, you're talking to an empty room, You are talking with your own imagination. Shut up Imagination!
There was only one thing to do.
Mary looked in silence at the monster kneeling by her bed.
"Goodnight," she announced and rolled over, but the big hairy monster touched her arm and gently forced her back, facing him.
"No, no, listen to me Boo, don't you remember? I'm here, I'm… real." He laid his big paw on her hand and something snapped. She felt it, a big warm feeling of something good. Like a memory she couldn't quite remember and was now only a warm feeling in her chest.
She looked into his big blue eyes.
"K-Kitty?"
And then he smiled.