Monster In My Attic

There's a monster living in my bedroom ceiling.

There.  I said it.  Now you know.

It's a nighttime monster that only makes its presence known when the call to slumber has arisen.  Then sounds its internal alarm to haunt and terrorize.  It scratches, claws and nibbles above as I wait for it to gnaw its way through the drywall barrier and drop onto my sleepless self.

I'm not afraid of monsters.  In fact, they're something to adore in daylight.  I see the gentleness in their beady eyes and playfulness in their twitching whiskers.  I think their tiny feet are precious as they pad along through daylit life and their tails like eager little whips beneath the sun.

But come moonlight, the monster has broken the cardinal law of trespassing, for which no twitching whisker can find pardon.

My monster has moved its way further from the corner of the room and closer to the discomfort zone. Directly above my bed.

Scrape, scrape. Chew, chew. My fists pounding above no longer intimidate. The monster is now brazen and impertinent, claiming squatter's rights in an unabandoned home.

I secretly wonder why the circle of life doesn't claim the monster's life by day. There are larger monsters looming both above and below who would find such a twitching monster a delightful treat.

But, everyday my brave monster outwits. Refusing a life as prey and returning ever again.  To gnaw, louder and Louder and LOUDER than ever. A quarter-inch of drywall closer than before.

The gauntlet's been cast and the intrusion no longer stood for. Tonight, he'll find monster traps. Lined and loaded with cunning cheese.

Ever so sorry, Beady Eyes.  You should have responded more politely to the beckon of my fist. This night you will find that participating in the food chain as prey may have been a more noble way to go.