What was your childhood monster?

First, a reminder that I'm over at Aubrie Dionne's blog today. We had a fun talk! Please stop by and say hello.

My monster came a little later in my childhood. From a really young age, I've always had a fascination with the supernatural. I was never afraid of ghosts or the dark. I never needed a nightlight. I grew up beside a cemetery and it was my favorite playground. When I was a teenager, I'd sleep with my window wide open - even in the winter - with the hope that a vampire would fly in from the graveyard and bite me!

I had a captain's bed growing up, so there was never room for a monster to hide under it. I never thought about closet monsters until I was ten and picked up Stephen King's Cujo. I've always been mature for my age. This was the first King book I picked up, and he nabbed me within the first few pages.

No, it wasn't the dog that scared me. I actually felt sorry for Cujo. It was the monster in Tad's closet that chilled me to the bone. It wasn't the stereotypical growl and drool I'm-going-to-eat monster. It talked, and it was intelligent. That made it super creepy. To top it off, I was home alone after school when I started to read the book. I was sitting in the living room in the big chair, one of my favorite reading spots. As I read about this monster, the basement door slowly creaked open. Logically, I knew it was probably because I didn't shut it properly when I put in the laundry downstairs. But all I could think about was this monster. A smart and evil beast. Dumb ones I might be able to trick, but this was no ordinary creature. I sat in the chair frozen, unable to move, until my father and brother came home about twenty minutes later.

I couldn't sleep that night. My room was tiny, only six by eight. The foot of my captain's bed was very near the closet. I piled my stuffed animals around me and kept the lamp on all night. I swear I could hear the monster chuckling from behind the closed sliding doors of my closet.

Of course, though the monster was smart, I was a clever kid. The next morning, I removed my closet doors. No closet, no monster. The remedy was as simple as that.

I guess my idea inspired other children in the neighborhood as well. My little brother removed his closet doors that week and so did half a dozen other neighbor kids. Closet doors are good for building forts!

Stephen King remains one of my biggest inspirations.

Don't forget to spread the word about FEARLESS! And Tawa wants to know what was your childhood monster?