by Anna Breslin

 I don’t know why they’re calling me a monster. Those things I kept in the basement, they were the monsters.

They were the ones with the scary, ugly faces. They were the ones who screamed and menaced me.

I can’t believe they locked me up and set those things free. I told them they were changelings. I told them they were toxic and dangerous.

Sure, they look nice sometimes. Maybe they even say good morning if you say it first and smile at them. But try to take one home, then you’ll see what they’re really like.

They get all red in the face. Hazardous fluids streamed out of their eyes. It’s some type of poison. I always wore gloves and protective gear when I had to get anywhere near one of them. I had to hose them down all the time to detoxify the air in my house.

I told them how my mission began. I saw them pretending to exercise every day by walking around the neighborhood.

Then the truth was revealed to me.

They were patrolling the neighborhood and planning an attack. They wore headphones so they could hear the commands of their leader. They didn’t think I could hear what was going on, but God gave me the power of supersonic hearing.

I heard everything.

They were looking for the right time to attack.

Why won’t anyone listen to me?

Why are they trying to pretend the threat isn’t real?

Maybe it was because I wasn’t authorized to capture monsters, is that it? 

I suppose they want to keep it hush-hush, top secret.

Or, maybe the monsters were able to hypnotize them. They tried to do that with me a few times.

Those monsters, mostly they scream after you capture them, but sometimes they spoke softly and told me about their monster families and their monster children. They’d deny they were monsters. They tried to make me believe I was the one who was being cruel — cruel to them.

Can you imagine?

They claimed their families were suffering and wondering where they were. As if anyone wants a monster in their house if they can’t keep it in a cage-like I did.

They couldn’t hold up their human act. They couldn’t help revealing their true selves; monsters never can.

They’d expel fluids from between their legs until their clothes changed colors. They’d make the floors turn red.

And they say I’m a monster?

I was the one who had to clean up their dangerous filth! I put my life at risk every single day. Why can’t they see that?

Some people will want to know how I became a monster hunter, like reporters and historians. They’ll want to come talk to me, and when they do, I’ll tell them the truth about how it all began.

It all started after they released me from my job at the window factory. At first, I was mad about that. Then I realized God had ordained it. It had to be God who set this up and made me a monster hunter.

Doesn’t everything happen for a reason?

I was getting paid by the government for not working at the window factory. But I couldn’t afford TV anymore. They didn’t give me enough for my TV bill. So what could I do but sit on my porch?

That was His plan!

He wanted me to sit there so I could see what they were doing. It happened that first week after they turned the TV off. I saw the monsters passing by every day, and my divine purpose became clear.

They seemed to have a uniform. Tight black pants and t-shirts. Like I said before, they all had headphones, and they also had phones or watches or other electronic things they would look at sometimes.

They’d go by my house kind of fast. Sometimes they saw me on the porch. Sometimes they didn’t. I waved at them. Most ignored me. A few would nod or wave, might even say “good morning.” Some would show their teeth. I think they did that to try and scare me.

I figured out how to get them all to talk to me. I saw that they liked flowers at the other houses. So I planted some. It was a way to get close. Not too close — if you know what I mean. I had to make them think I was a weak man like all the rest, and that I was too dumb to understand what they were up to.

After they finished making their early morning patrols, I’d make plans. I installed a camera on my porch that I bought from a guy at the flea market where I was selling some things. I needed to get pictures and assign them numbers so I could document what they were doing.

I kept track of the dates and time that they walked passed my house. It’s all in my red notebook. I told them they should read my notes so they’d understand what I was doing.

I knew I needed to catch them. I needed to keep them from offering up me and everyone in the neighborhood to their alien masters. So I did. I sprayed them with the pepper spray I got at the flea market from this other guy. Then, I dragged them inside and locked them up in the cages I built in my basement. The plan was to use them as bait.

I knew if I held them long enough, the ships would arrive. They’d try and rescue them from me. Then I’d be able to blow those blue monsters up. That’s what all the gasoline in my shed was for, to blow them up!

It wasn’t like I was expecting a hero’s parade after I was victorious. I wasn’t motivated by anything like that. It was my calling. God had assigned the job to me. I had to listen to Him. But, I did think, you know, the president might want to meet me to thank me personally for stopping the invasion.

I didn’t realize there were so many monsters on the police force. The infiltration was worse than I could have ever have imagined. I don’t know why they didn’t tell me how terrible things were and how these monsters were everywhere.

I don’t know how much longer they will keep me in here. I have told them over and over, the government assigned this job to me. They can’t seem to get confirmation since it was a super top-secret program.

I told them how I met with my commander every month. He gave me slips of paper. He wrote updates in code. It was all in code. “Keep up the good work.” They wrote that this way — chlorpromazine. Sometimes they added the word haloperidol, and that meant, “things might be tough, don’t give up.”

They trained me in the code at night while I was sleeping. It was a top super-secret method of instruction. They can’t seem to understand!


I suggested they try it. I hope they will. Then it will only take a few nights before they can learn to understand God’s word and that He wants me released so I can go back to capturing monsters.

Since you’re my lawyer, you should try that too. Then you can set the record straight and get me out of here!

© 2020, A. Breslin, All Rights Reserved.

Image Credit: jpvargas Igor Mitoraj CC BY 2.0

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