Sweet Nothing

‘Your father told you there were no monsters in the bedroom, didn’t he? Hm?’

Shock. Eyes don’t blink.

‘He said, didn’t he? He sai-iiiiid that no monsters come in if you protect yourself. If you lock the door.’

Remembers. Door bolted. Safe.

‘What didn’t you do, Miss Frost?’

Lock the door. Lock it.

‘What didn’t you do to make sure the monsters stayed out?’

‘Lock the door. Didn’t. Lock the door.’

‘Tt. Didn’t lock the door. That’s what keeps monsters from hiding under your bed. Did you forget? You mustn’t forget what your father teaches you in his stories.’

Father. No father.

‘Didn’t tell me stories.’

‘He never told you the one about the Big Bad Wolf?’

Jolt. Wolf. No. Teeth. Beast. Dark.

‘Did it scare you? The monster? Or did your father’s anger scare you far earlier?’

Stares. Eyes are soft. Wet. Eyes are sad.

‘He was never soft was he? Didn’t he strike you until you were silent? Didn’t he make you afraid of getting up? Why did you leave the door unlocked, Letty? Why?’

‘There was something there.’

‘Something? Something…. good? A monster?’

‘Take me away, I said. Take me away.’

Remembers. Softness. Shouldn’t have been soft.

‘The big wolf. The demon. Did he take you away?’

‘He is no wolf. He is…’

‘He is no human. There are-'

‘He is mine. He… is mine. Mine to love. Therefore he is no demon or wolf. Only mine.’

‘Love. Love changes all, and what have you. Don’t you even realise what this is?’

Waits for more.

‘Sees the wounds of another and presses hisself onto your warm body and echoes a softness nothing like you’ve known. Yet. Yet you press yourself back. Yet, you feel your hair caressed behind your ear by a hand the size of your face and you swallow the shadows and you drink in the sudden closeness of a strange large man that could not be your saviour and never could. There are stories about monsters like this. You should have listened.’

Feels a ghostly touch. Cradled. You were cradled.

‘I was not taught. Maybe it wouldn’t have even made a difference. Maybe I’d drink the flesh of him either way. Maybe there are no other eyes on me ever, and maybe he is large enough to carry the both of us and maybe he knows I am too. And maybe he saw the wounds and thought they were licked clean enough, and thought they were infected anyway, and thought I couldn’t do worse, and thought I could but she’s looking at me like I could give her a different kind of sun to swallow if I touched her cheek like I meant to say the word safety. Like I meant to say close your eyes and be with me.’

‘Letty.’

‘There are stories about every monster? There are stories about mine? What did my father say? To lock the door? But I let him in to take me away. But he gave me a net and didn’t bite when I fell in it, away. When I went. When there were no suns to swallow. I needed him to come in. Scary or not. You don’t know a thing. He is mine. He is everything I am. There are different things said, about the wolf who was a man.’

‘I know many things. I know what that net is. A trap. A trick.’

‘I have laid out enough of my own traps. Maybe this net is warm. Maybe it is safe. There are suns here. There never used to be.’

‘I don’t understand-'

‘No one could,’ I smile. ‘It is not yours to understand. It is mine.’

His jaw tightened. ‘You will be torn apart in that den of yours. In that net, you call it. Torn to pieces.’

Swallows. Tastes sweetness.

‘Torn apart? Until I’m nothing? Don’t you think I welcome that with open fucking arms? Until I’m nothing.’

Stares. Nothing blooms in his eyes. It tastes sweet.