Dark, cold and unrelenting
Fear, curling through the darkness like a fog
Panic, bubbling up and boiling over
Can’t see, can’t scream, can’t run
All the pain that adults can inflict on the young comes back in dreams.
Somehow the lock on the box is gone
The demons are loose creating havoc
On the unsuspecting, unaware of the forgotten hell
That reveals itself in the dark of night.
Is this a memory or just the product of an overactive imagination?
And the better question…
How do we get the monsters back into the box.