Echoes of a Monster

terror didn't come as a scream
it came as an
echo (echo)
...of a whisper (whisper)
heard only by me
be good
did he really say it?
or did i imagine it?
whichever it was, i listened,
didn't move,
and tried to
disappear
as if there was any way out,
anywhere to go,
any place that was
beyond his reach...

but today, he was
not alone.
there was someone else
wanting me to be good.
i froze.
the basement air
was charged,
heavy with
electricity
and energy
because this time
would be different.
it was someone else's turn.

monsters aren't born,
they're made,
sometimes with a stick,
sometimes with a carrot,
sometimes with peer pressure
to look cool or worldly
by hurting someone...
like a little girl...
pink cotton candy --
bits of pure sugar and fluff
and when the last bite has been
eaten
and the bed is all sticky,

there... lies a monster.