You Don't Scare Me

                                         YOU DON’T SCARE ME

         The thing with all the teeth was right behind her, chasing her down the hall.  It was getting closer, snapping at her heels.  She reached the end of the hall and discovered she was cornered.  It was too high from the ground to jump out the window.  The toothy thing lunged and Helen found herself sitting up in bed about to cry out. 

         She lay back on the pillow.  The glowing numbers on the clock showed one in the morning.  She asked herself, “What am I?  Three years old?”  It was a little kid’s nightmare but the fear was all too real.

         At least this time she didn’t wake up Peter.  That was good; it was embarrassing to a grown woman to be having nightmares about monsters.

         The thing was she remembered this nightmare from long ago, from when they lived in the house they moved from when she was six.  Why was she having it again now? 

         In the morning she was still thinking about it.  What had triggered the terror from long past?  Really weird, she told herself.

         The next night the same thing happened.  This time she turned and faced the thing.  It shrank back.

         “Stupid monster, I am not five years old any more.”

         It was backing away.  She took a step toward it and it turned and fled. 

         Peter turned to her and asked in a sleepy voice, “What’s so funny?”

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