I don't even remembering going to sleep. I must have, because I woke up in the middle of the night. To suddenly awaken from a dreamless sleep was disorienting and the darkness of the room made me forgot for a moment where I was. I thought for a moment I was somewhere else, but I couldn't remember where. I couldn't even remember my own name.

And then I saw it. Its eyes shown on the darkness. It crouched at the end of my bed. I couldn't see its face, but I then what it was: it was the monster in my closet, the monster under my bed, the monster every child was afraid would appear in their bedroom as they slept. Its fingers traced patterns on the bed and I grabbed the gun and-

And I couldn't move. There was a whispering sound, a susuruss, a murmur that made my body go rigid and stop. The gun was in my hand, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed as the monster reached across the bed and stroked by cheek. Its fingers were cold and sharp and I felt blood well up where it touched me.

I could see its mouth now, with its rows and rows of teeth. It was whispering, each syllable making sure my body stayed still and silent. And then the whispers changed and my body moved by itself, my arm turned and I was pointing the gun at myself, at my head.

The monster was going to win. This was not how I thought this was going to happen. This was not supposed to happen. The monster couldn't win. I had to finish this. I had to kill all the monsters.

My finger pulled the trigger and the gun clicked. No bullets. Of course. Click. Click. My finger kept pulling the trigger as the whispers rose and fell and my body obeyed without question.

I was completely and utterly helpless. I was a plaything to this creature. I was nothing. I felt the monster's fingers at my neck and I knew it was over.

And then my helplessness poured out from me. It drained from my body and in the dark of the room, I saw a glint of metal. There was a bullet, one single bullet that gleamed in the dark.

The whispers stopped from a second and before they could start again, I grabbed the bullet and put it in the gun, then turned to the monster. Its fingers were still on my throat and I could feel pain as they tightened and as I pulled the trigger, I could see its face, I could see as the bullet struck its face and it shuddered in pain.

And then darkness descended again and I was left in bed with a dead monster. I carefully removed its claws from my throat and left the room.

Outside, in the moonlight, I raised my hand into the sky. I was no longer helpless. I had no memory of being helpless, no dreams of my life when I was so afraid. This is what I wanted.

Then why do I feel nothing?