Flash Fiction: The Truth Will Let You Breathe

The Flash Fiction challenge over at TerribleMinds this week was to write a monster story in 1000 words or less. The catch: it had to be a new monster. No vampires, werewolves, zombies, etc. We had to come up with something new and different.

I found this challenge really tricky. Coming up with the monster was the easy part — I worked that out on day one. But no matter how many times I started writing the story, I couldn’t make it work. The mood wasn’t right, the words wouldn’t come… It was just one of those stories that I couldn’t seem to get from my brain to the paper. Then: Inspiration.

A monster story, told in the lyrical style of Dr. Seuss.

The Truth will Let You Breathe

In the dark of the night
Something went bump.
I woke up with a start.
I woke up with a jump.
I leapt from my bed
With my heart all aflutter.
I grabbed for my gun,
And I started to mutter.

“I can hear you, my friend,”
I said under my breath.
“Have you come here to fight,
man-to-man, to the death?
If that is the case,
Then you better watch out.
I’m the best that there is,
Of that, there’s no doubt.”

But nothing was said,
And the darkness was still.
I crept through the house
And then felt a chill.
I spun to my left
And then to my right
“Where are you?”I yelled
Then I switched on the light.

It was standing right there,
Barely three feet away,
It was grotesque and horrid
In every way.
I screamed like a banshee
And pointed my gun.
My hand was all shaky.
I wanted to run.

“Don’t move,” I said bravely.
My teeth clicked and clacked.
My whole body was shaking
As a matter of fact.
“Just back away slowly,
I won’t ask you twice.”
It laughed and it grabbed me,
It’s grip like a vice.

I struggled and strained,
But I couldn’t get free.
“What are you? And
What are you doing to me?”
It started to laugh,
A long drawn out sound,
“I’m all of the lies
That you’ve spread around.”

I looked up at the monster,
Looked into its face,
The face that belonged to
My first girlfriend, Grace.
I’d told her I loved her,
But it wasn’t true.
It was the heat of the moment.
I just wanted a screw.

Its eyes looked like Barry’s.
I’d once dobbed him in
For cheating at school,
But I’d copied from him.
Its tongue was a fish
That I’d said got away.
Its teeth, cigarettes
Smoked in secret one day

It was wearing a shirt
That I stole from a mate
(I’d sworn that I hadn’t,
But Gods it looked great.),
Jeans made of books that
I said that I’d read,
A belt made of rumours
I’d started or spread.

In its hand was a gun,
It looked just like mine.
“You’re not really the best.”
It laughed one more time.
I held up my free hand
In front of my head,
“Please don’t just shoot me!
I don’t want to be dead!”

It looked at me long
And it lowered the gun.
“I’m not going to shoot you,
That wouldn’t be fun.”
It reached into its pocket
And pulled something free:
A lighter that really
Meant nothing to me.

“You stole this from your Dad,”
It said with a smile.
“You told him you hadn’t,
Said it wasn’t your style.”
It flicked on the flame
And then let it fall.
The carpet caught fire,
And so did the wall.

“This is the battery
You swore you’d replaced
In that smoke alarm there
So conveniently placed.
But it won’t help you now,”
It said. “’Cause it’s broke.”
Then it held me quite still
While I started to choke.