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The monsters in my closet are singing again. I think they've formed a choir, all howling at once in different keys. It sounds like 'Poker Face', if Lady Gaga had two pairs of lungs and wet paper in her mouth.
They won't listen to me. They never do.
I sigh and put on my pink slippers. They sparkle as I make my way down to the basement.
Our basement is awesome. The stairs are old and wooden and make great creepy sounds when I step on them. Especially the one second to last.
I linger on that one, stepping high on the tops of my toes to make that sound last longer.
I think of zombies and mental institutions. Video games where the controller shakes along with you.
A bubbling gurgle sounds. It's almost like a lawnmower struggling to start.
"Okay I'll stop," I mutter.
My sister never lets me have any fun. Such a buzzkill.
Just because she's older she thinks it's okay to boss me around.
Her name is Denise which is an awesome name. She hates it. Says it sounds like a character on that old Dallas show who wears wide shoulder-pads and thinks her husband is gay but really he's asexual and can't come out because of the sociopolitical climate at the time.
Mine is Nuss. Totally the worst name right? I was named after great great great aunt Eunice who looks like a horse in the old black and white pictures of her.
I hop off the step to the basement. Green lights hang from low chains, swinging in the not breeze. One or two flicker, casting shadows on the cement walls.
Denise has the biggest cage because sometimes she grows wings. The other cages are dirtier and smell of mold.
Withered looking creatures barely look at me as I cross over to where Denise is sitting.
She has a game controller in her tentacles and is staring intently at the old bubble television in front of her.
"Which Mario level are you failing at now?" I ask. "Not the water level again."
What do you want pest?
I sit cross legged in front of her cage, watching her tentacle arms move delicately as Mario jumps and eats a mushroom.
"Look at him doing drugs. He's a bad influence."
Denise snort-burbles.
What do you know about drugs? You're twelve. Got into the candy cigarettes? Need an intervention?
"You are annoying."
Says the little sister.
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Everyone knows little sisters are always brats.
"That is pure supposition without factual evidence."
Denise's five eyes roll at once.
Stop watching C-Span. You sound like a tool.
"I am edumacated."
She laughs and the other creatures howl or cry in their cages.
I lean into the bars. She strokes the top of my head with a few of her smaller tentacles.
Monsters again?
"Yeah. Daddy should invent a repellent. I'm getting tired of whacking them with my tennis racket when they get drunk and serenade each other. Plus they leave everything so sticky."
I'll tell them to knock it off.
I hum as she braids my hair. My eyes are heavy as I fall asleep to the sound of Mario and Luigi rescuing the princess over and over again.
They won't listen to me. They never do.
I sigh and put on my pink slippers. They sparkle as I make my way down to the basement.
Our basement is awesome. The stairs are old and wooden and make great creepy sounds when I step on them. Especially the one second to last.
I linger on that one, stepping high on the tops of my toes to make that sound last longer.
I think of zombies and mental institutions. Video games where the controller shakes along with you.
A bubbling gurgle sounds. It's almost like a lawnmower struggling to start.
"Okay I'll stop," I mutter.
My sister never lets me have any fun. Such a buzzkill.
Just because she's older she thinks it's okay to boss me around.
Her name is Denise which is an awesome name. She hates it. Says it sounds like a character on that old Dallas show who wears wide shoulder-pads and thinks her husband is gay but really he's asexual and can't come out because of the sociopolitical climate at the time.
Mine is Nuss. Totally the worst name right? I was named after great great great aunt Eunice who looks like a horse in the old black and white pictures of her.
I hop off the step to the basement. Green lights hang from low chains, swinging in the not breeze. One or two flicker, casting shadows on the cement walls.
Denise has the biggest cage because sometimes she grows wings. The other cages are dirtier and smell of mold.
Withered looking creatures barely look at me as I cross over to where Denise is sitting.
She has a game controller in her tentacles and is staring intently at the old bubble television in front of her.
"Which Mario level are you failing at now?" I ask. "Not the water level again."
What do you want pest?
I sit cross legged in front of her cage, watching her tentacle arms move delicately as Mario jumps and eats a mushroom.
"Look at him doing drugs. He's a bad influence."
Denise snort-burbles.
What do you know about drugs? You're twelve. Got into the candy cigarettes? Need an intervention?
"You are annoying."
Says the little sister.
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Everyone knows little sisters are always brats.
"That is pure supposition without factual evidence."
Denise's five eyes roll at once.
Stop watching C-Span. You sound like a tool.
"I am edumacated."
She laughs and the other creatures howl or cry in their cages.
I lean into the bars. She strokes the top of my head with a few of her smaller tentacles.
Monsters again?
"Yeah. Daddy should invent a repellent. I'm getting tired of whacking them with my tennis racket when they get drunk and serenade each other. Plus they leave everything so sticky."
I'll tell them to knock it off.
I hum as she braids my hair. My eyes are heavy as I fall asleep to the sound of Mario and Luigi rescuing the princess over and over again.
