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Monster Story by Sarah M. Sweat poured from my hands. The warty ogre towered ominously nearby. He leered at me with his yellowish beady eyes. His scab-encrusted body secreted a layer of puke green mucus that covered his ghastly carcass and left a slime trail not unlike those left by slugs on a hot day. "You can't do it, can you?" the monster chuckled with a sound like a gurgling drain. Wide eyed, I retreated. "No you can't, can you. I can see it in your eyes. You are afraid." He closed his eyes, feeling his power over me. "It is your fear that gives me strength." I tried valiantly to tamp down the burgeoning feelings of dread. A flicker registered in his cold slimy face. Then his sneer returned and I knew my efforts to control my emotions were of no use. His horrible bloody visage curdled my skin and sickened me to my toes. His condescending sneer turned into a sinister snicker and escalated until it became a full belly laugh that shook his enormous girth making it jiggle in a horribly hideous way. Then, as my fear of him grew, so did he, until he was the size of a behemoth. The drool glistened on his fangs and sparkled from the immensely bright sun as it dripped off his misshapen teeth. At that point, his voice thundered down to me, "You thought your puny resistance to your worst fear could conquer me". I thought his laughter could shake the sun out of the heavens it was so loud. His cackle traveled across the arena and echoed into the stands. The fear inside me grew, it's claws scratching it's way through every inch. "I can do this," I whispered to myself. "I must!" "You can't!" he bellowed back at me, spittle spewing forth from the pus-infested orifice that his mouth had become. "It is not them you are afraid of," he said like a Cheshire cat. It wasn't until that moment that I realized there were people in the stands. "It is you, yourself. You are afraid of not being perfect. You cannot bear the idea of making a mistake, which undoubtedly, you will do." By this time, the monster had grown to titanic proportions. He continued to snigger at me, while I looked to the stands in hopes of finding some kind face, some familiarity. I was disheartened when I realized that all that was out there was a sea of blank stares. "They will not help you," he thundered down to me, "they could not if they wanted to. This is between you and me." The monster reached down for me from his lofty height. His grotesquely gnarled hand with long dirty nails came towards me. The silence was deafening. The world seemed to slow down and as it slowed, I heard a faint sound. The sound grew into a whisper, and from a whisper to a murmur until at last it became a voice. The voice was soft and it trembled ever so faintly. As the voice grew in depth and strength, the monster began to shrink, slowly at first, but gaining speed by the second. The voice rang out through the arena proclaiming it's message for all to hear. Blank stares transformed into curious looks and finally into expressions of excitement. When the voice quieted, I was shocked to realize it had been my own voice. I had spoken those words. The monster now resembled a nasty little pixie. Shaking his little fists and squeaking at me, his little face turned purple with rage. I leaned closer to hear him. "What did you say? I can't hear you." "You are not rid of me," he shrieked, " I will be back!" He scurried out the door in haste, knowing if I but had the chance, I would smash him as so many bugs on my windshield. I returned to my seat and slumped over, fatigued from the super human efforts I had exerted. While regaining my strength, a very smug voice oozed across the room. "See Sarah, I told you giving a speech would be easy," Mr. Walsh smiled contentedly, "next week should be even easier." My incredulity at this remark remains to this day unutterable. |