He heard the ticking and tapping of someone fumbling around in the place. He wondered who it was, but was afraid to see.
Then the growling and snarling started, and he knew. It was the monster. He barely swallowed back a whimper.
It was his fault the monster was there. He had brought the monster from the mountain, except he had never got to the mountain. It had been dark and raining and then the growling and grumbling had started in the sky and come down to the ground in big flashes of light and heavy downpours.
Then the monster grabbed him and shook him and asked him what was wrong with him. It shook him and shook him, and he couldn't see it good, with the rain and the flashing light.
He didn't want to see it.
He didn't want to hear it, either, but it kept growling at him. Almost like it was mumbling to itself, all about how bad he was. Stupid, stubborn boy. Ignorant pig headed child. Would he never learn to do as he was told?
The monster was dragging him now: by the arm, by the ear, by the collar, by his neck. Dragging him and shaking him and roaring at him.
He roared back, and the monster slapped him, hard. So hard he fell in the mud, and then the monster kicked him and picked him up and promised him to wait until he got home and he'd teach him a thing or two. Make him sorry he'd been born.
But they weren't going home, they were going back into town.
Jeremy screamed.
He sat up in bed crying.
He apologized to Josh, over and over again. He hadn't meant to be bad. It just happened.
He was sorry he'd been born.