The Monster
Outside My Window
By
Jay D. Falcetti
Gripping my sheets, I bring
the
hem just under my nose. The warmth of my breath heats my face, the dampness is
irritating, but I don’t dare pull them back. My eyes are glued to the window, I
can’t look away because as soon as I do, it’ll strike.
The monster outside my window.
The monster haunts me, stalks
me, every night. I’ve desperately begged and pleaded with it to leave me alone.
I’ve asked what it desires, what it seeks from me!
The monster
never answers.
Every night it
inches closer to my window, peering down on me, violently clashing against the
windowpane trying to get in. As the nights grow colder, its claws bare over me,
threatening to slice me from chin to belly. The eerie scratches on the outer
wall, constant, sickening, a reminder that it’s always there. Always watching.
In the
midnight heat, the budding eyes glare at me, waning in and out of view. When
the nights are silent, still, it’ll crash against my window, never stopping its
attempts to get in, to devour me, to take me into the night.
Year after
year, season after season, our wills battle. As tempting as it can be in trying
to lure me to open the window I now know better. At first the soft petaled
flowers I took were serene, the innocence and naivety had me believe they were
a gift. In my lull of false security, the monster scratched me, thorns tore
jagged bloody lines into my skin.
The saccharine fruit that
it
brings turns bitter on my tongue and poisonous in my gut. The alluring
sweetness of the monster is temporary, false, and unpredictable.
On this eve
of a full moon, I’ve had enough, I can’t stand it anymore. The constant
watching, beckoning, the talons dragging against my window- it’s enough!
Ripping the sheets off me,
rushing
outside, I’m greeted by the chilly air. My daddy’s axe in hand, I face the monster
who plagues me. I raise my axe, but it remains steadfast, unafraid and unmoved.
“I’ll do
it!” I shout. “Don’t tempt me!”
It doesn’t
bend. Then with a strong gust, their arms reach for me, and I swing, terrified.
Connecting with long dead fingers, they spray across my face, scratching me
before they hit the ground.
I’m stunned.
I’ve hurt it, yet it doesn’t turn away, doesn’t give in. I raise my axe once
more and charge, swinging into its body. I chip away at it, and they laugh in
return.
I’m weak compared
to them.
Maniacal swing
after swing, after swing. Exhaustion finds me, the axe becomes an unbearable
weight. I’m going to lose, and worse yet, I’m right beneath its clutches. I
fall down, gasping for air. When I close my eyes, I think to myself they’ve
won. They got what they wanted, I’m right here unable to get up, unable to run.
The morning
sun finds my face first, the rays waking me. Glancing up, the monster outside
my window has taken the form of a tree. They didn’t take me in the night,
didn’t eat me nor kill me. Slowly, I grab the axe and crawl away in the dew
laden grass, a smile wide on my face. I’ve won. Somehow, I’ve beaten the monster
and trapped them in the tree.
In as long
as I can remember I’m free from its curse, from their image rooted in my mind,
from their shadow slithering in my room. I long for rest, to sleep.
When night settles over
the sun,
I go to bed the grin still on my face. They’re a tree now, no more threats or menacing
stares.
I settle
into my blankets, close my eyes, and hear knocking against my windowpane. I
shiver, cold sweat sprinkles across my brow. Do I dare peek? Do I dare turn to
face my window? I don’t need to, the looming figure reaching towards me halts
my breath.
The monster has returned.
Jay D.
Falcetti (she/her) is a biracial Indigenous writer based
in Washington, where she lives with her family. Her short stories have appeared
in various online magazines. She writes fantasy, horror, science fiction, and
literary fiction. Connect with her and discover her published work on Instagram
@jdfalcetti. Jay D. Falcetti is a pen name.
