no idea, only write
there's a monster in my basement. sometimes it keeps me company, sits with me at my desk. it's been sleeping for months now, but it woke up again last week.
of course i went down to check on my fair-weather friend. he was growling and thrashing, knocking things off shelves and throwing things all around. i assume he's not happy in the basement, that perhaps he'd like to visit me again, so i try to let him out. i tell him the door is open, and i leave it open. but he stays down there, still thrashing, growling, howling. i try to be patient; maybe he hasn't figured out the door is open, maybe he just needs a few minutes to calm down, but it's been days now and he still. keeps. howling.
i can't sleep. i can't think. i'm sick of it. i march down the stairs, intent on leashing the beast and just dragging it upstairs. my hands approach it and then return, broken and bleeding. i retreat, defeated.
it comes to you in times of agony, a voice says. maybe it won't follow without the scent of blood.
i stare down at my hands.
maybe you just haven't suffered enough.