My son asked me to check the closet for monsters. I didn't need to.

My son is six and has been begging me for a week to let him sleep in his own room. But he gets spooked out by noises when he's alone, and he's taken to demanding I check his closet and them "Clean the monsters out." <br><br>I have taken him to multiple therapists, my wife and I have even tried group therapy, but nothing seems to help him sleep any better. We're at a loss for how to help. I've even entertained the idea of getting him one of those nightlights that shine monsters onto the ceiling, but they give me the creeps so I don't know if they'll be that comforting for him. <br><br>I took my time answering, "Are you sure you don't want to sleep next to me tonight, buddy?" <br><br>I figured he'd say yes, then I could fry up some bacon in the skillet and tell him to change his mind before it was too late, and he'd laugh, take the bacon, and come to bed with me like he did every night. <br><br>His chubby cheeks and big blue eyes looked back at me, brimming with tears. "I think I can sleep alone now, mommy."<br><br>"You can call me whenever you want, okay? Or you can use the walkie talkie if you get scared." I gave him one of the walkie talkies we bought, and he held the antenna to his ear and made static noises. <br><br>"Goodnight, big guy! It's time for sleep." I tucked him in and shut them blinds, turned off the light, and shut the bedroom door. <br><br>I was already asleep when I heard him call me on the walkie talkies. <br><br>"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" <br><br>His voice was tight and scared.<br><br>"I'm coming, baby!" I rolled over and hit the lamp switch, and it didn't come on. "That sucks.... Okay, I'm coming. Don't worry!"<br><br>There was a loud bang, and then that side of the bed started to jostle and shake. I knew what was causing it, but the fact that he'd come into my room while I was sleeping didn't feel right. <br><br>I rolled over and sat up, and I rubbed my eyes. The light flickered, and I pushed my fingers through my hair. <br><br>I wasn't in my bedroom. I wasn't even in my house. <br><br>I was in our old house, my childhood bedroom. I sat up, and I took a deep breath. This wasn't real. But I was there, nonetheless. <br><br>There was a bang, and my closet door flew open. <br><br>"Are you going to check for monsters?"<br><br>"No, buddy." I stood up and walked to that closet.<br><br>"What's your name?"<br><br>"Jason."<br><br>"Well, Jason, neither of us needs to look inside that closet."<br><br>"Yes, we do!" He stomped his foot and his lower lip trembled. "Or I'll just be scared all the time!"<br><br>"Okay." I reached out and opened that door. <br><br>Nothing was in there.<br><br>"See? I told you there were no monsters."<br><br>He looked up at me with a smile, and his teeth were stained with blood. <br><br>Then everything went white, and I felt pain, and I was back in bed, hitting the lamp switch over and over again. <br><br>It didn't turn on. <br><br>I reached over to the nightstand and fumbled around, sticking my fingers into something warm and sticky. I felt around some more, and I grabbed the flashlight. <br><br>I shone it around the room, and I saw that the ceiling tiles had been smashed in. There was debris everywhere, and a great big hole in the ceiling. <br><br>I shone the light on the bed next to me, and there was my son, lying on his stomach next to me. <br><br>His head was twisted at an odd angle, and his feet were sticking straight up in the air. Both of his legs were cut off just above the knees, and they were lying on the ground next to the bed. <br><br>His face was caved in on one side, and there was a trail of blood leading from his mouth to the baseboards. <br><br>I touched his back, and he didn't move. <br><br>I felt his chest, and there was no heartbeat. <br><br>"Son?" I said, and my voice cracked. <br><br>He groaned, ever so softly, and rolled over, revealing the fact that both his eyes had been torn out. The only thing in them were two soft looking bulbs that cast a faint blue light. <br><br>His mouth moved, and he groaned again, and I heard his voice on the walkie talkies. <br><br>"Mommy, Mommy. Mommy, Mommy. Mommy, Mommy....." <br><br>Then he sat up, and I screamed. <br><br>I screamed so long that my voice gave out. <br><br>Then I screamed some more. <br><br>He didn't react, he just sat there, pulling his legs up onto the bed, both of them bleeding, and looking at me with empty eye sockets. <br><br>I heard footsteps coming from the hallway, and I stuck the walkie talkies under the blankets, and I saw my wife walk in. <br><br>"Was that you screaming?" <br><br>I looked at my son, sitting in bed, pulling his severed legs onto the comforter. Both of them were bleeding, and his shorts were covered in blood, and his face was caved in, and his eye sockets were empty. <br><br>I didn't see him.<br><br>"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" My wife said, and she climbed into bed on the other side. <br><br>Blindly, I reached over and I stuck my hand in the bloody pool next to my son. <br><br>I felt his soft little feet, and they were warm, and they were twitching. And my son... he didn't react. He just sat there, still as a doll, pulling his severed legs back onto the bed. <br><br>"Are you okay?" My wife's hand came down onto my bare shoulder, and I flinched, pulling my hand back. <br><br>I felt the sticky liquid from my son's legs still on my fingertips, so I wiped them on my shirt. <br><br>"Yeah. Everything's fine." <br><br>"You aren't okay. You need to get a grip." She rolled over and turned her back to me. "I'm going to sleep, and I don't want you to talk to me until tomorrow."<br><br>I nodded, and I took a deep breath. <br><br>I had to be imagining things. But why?<br><br>"Why did you move Noah to our room?" <br><br>There was a pause. "What? I didn't move Noah to this room."<br><br>"No." I looked at the spot where my son had been, but he was gone. <br><br>My wife stuck her head over my shoulder and looked at me. "Why are you calling me 'ma'am'?"<br><br>"I don't know."<br><br>"Go to sleep, Jason. You're acting crazy." <br><br>I nodded. I took another deep breath.<br><br>"I'm going to sleep. You're right. Sorry." <br><br>"Don't apologize. Just go to sleep. And stop calling me 'ma'am."<br><br>"Okay."<br><br>She rolled back over and I listened to her breathe until she started to snore. <br><br>Then I listened to her breathing for that much longer. <br><br>I think it was a few hours before I stuck my hand over to where my son had been sitting. <br><br>I felt his little feet. They were warm, and they were twitching. <br><br>And I felt something else. Something hard and cold.<br><br>I pulled it out, and it was one of the walkie talkies we'd bought for him. I held it to my ear, and I heard his voice whispering in my ear. <br><br>"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"<br><br>I pulled it away, and I stuck it back into the bed, and I closed my eyes, and I listened to my wife breathing. <br><br>I was going to go to sleep.<br><br>No matter what. <br><br>I was going to go to sleep, and I wasn't going to think about this anymore. <br><br>I took a deep breath, and I closed my eyes, and I dreamed of that closet, and the monsters that were inside it. <br><br>I woke up at noon the next day, my wife was in the kitchen, and Noah was sitting next to her, eating bacon, and talking about how he'd slept alone last night. <br><br>He looked absolutely fine. <br><br>Both his legs were still attached to his body, his eyes were perfect, and there was no blood anywhere on him. <br><br>I looked around the house to see if there was any damage to the ceiling, and there was none. <br><br>But I was still thinking of that closet, and the monsters inside it.<br><br>And I was still hearing Noah's voice on the walkie talkie, begging for me.<br><br>I decided to get it out of my head once and for all.<br><br>So I went back to my old house, and I went to my old room, and I opened that closet door. <br><br>And... well... I'm not going to tell you what was in it. <br><br>You see, your closet is still there, and who knows what's inside it? Maybe there's nothing. Maybe there's monsters. But when you think about it, you'll take the uncertainty, right? <br><br>And I don't want to take that away from you.