My flesh, my beating heart, a willing meal that refuses to remember the danger of being eaten

The monster is back, but if it knows I know, it will do worse than eat me. Claws close around my throat as I pay for my soda and Tylenol at the shitty, sticky convenience store down the street.

“Keep the change,” I stutter.

The clerk cocks his head to the side as I blink back tears, stretching my lips into a thin smile, pretending everything is alright. The clerk can’t see the monster, no one can. This monster is mine.

“Thanks.” The clerk hands me a receipt and goes back to watching the hockey game under the counter.

I turn but not too fast. As we pass through the door, the monster scratches at the fluorescent sign. I hear it spark and sputter behind me as we step into the moonless night.

Mama said monsters stay put when you’re brave enough to leave them, but she’s wrong. This monster keeps hunting me. Its breath moistens my neck like a graveyard breeze, and its groping claw pinches my waist like a promise. I need to get home. The protection Mama put on the house should safeguard us from the monster—so long as I fix my gaze forward and do not look. What would I do if it weren’t here? Breathe, maybe.

I miss the light. The monster laughs as I kick the crosswalk, and it kicks a parking meter in return, felling it in a single blow. I wince but the clang against the pavement doesn’t shock passersby. We’re all used to this city crumbling around us.

A growl vibrates down my spine and my hands shake as I pull out my phone. Mama doesn’t answer. My little sister doesn’t answer.

“Shit,” I mutter. They’re probably eating. The thought of dinner makes me nauseous. I tug at my scalp, desperate to relieve the pressure beneath my skull. I pop open the Tylenol. Monsters sense migraines, scraped knees, sleepless nights—any weakness that keeps you down.

The light changes. My phone rings.

“Mama?”

“Don’t forget my magazines! And your sister wants chocolate.”

“I…I forgot.”

“Ay nako! Go back!”

“I’m tired. I want to be inside the house, Mama.”

Mama goes quiet and I hear her shuffling towards the kitchen, leaving my sister at the dining table.

“Do not look,” she whispers.

I hang up and take one step forward, but the monster doesn’t like that. It wants me to squirm as I tread carefully towards my house. Each time I pass someone on the sidewalk, the monster squeezes at my neck.

It wants me to run. I want to run, but the house is still too far.

Sweat trickles down the ridge of my back, gathering beneath my tits, soaking the creases of my jeans, like my body is crying. One more block.

My phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Mama said you didn’t get chocolate.”

“I’m sorry. Be home soon,” I whisper like a prayer.

“But, Ate!” I hear her stomping her feet and I want to laugh. I really want to laugh. “Go back? Pretty please?”

“Tomorrow!” I squeak as a car wooshes past. I didn’t make the light again, and I’m starting to think this is just another way the monster taunts me. Calling the restaurant where I work, creeping behind me during class, liking my stories, turning all the lights red.

“I’ll buy you a whole chocolate cake tomorrow,” I say.

“Promise?”

The timer on the perpendicular crosswalk counts down. The monster pulls my hair so hard my head snaps back and I stare into the streetlights. I drop the pills and soda. A thousand tiny teeth brush against my rib and it releases my neck a little, an invitation.

“Promise,” I gasp. She hangs up.

When the light changes, I run.

I hear the monster’s bones crack as it grows new legs, pounding its hooves hard and heavy into the concrete. I’m panting, barrelling towards my door with blurry eyes. Alarms ring out as it pounces over parked cars and scrapes against windows.

I reach for my doorknob, but the monster tosses my body into the alleyway beside my house. Broken glass and beer caps puncture my side. It slams me against the bricks. Again and again, my head crashes against solid wall. The monster shakes me until blood soaks my neck, and my head is on fire, but I keep my eyes shut.

To see the monster is to forget the monster, and that’s the real danger. Its hollow-bone nose scratches against my face, sniffing me, purring, rubbing at my eyes to look.

The first bite hurts more than I thought it would. Monsters are hungry by nature. They eat at you in selfish gulps. Mine chews a chunk of my cheek as I scream.

Forgetting cannot save me. If I forget, the monster will keep on chewing, no matter how much I kiss and caress it. Love and devotion won’t fill its stomach. It wants my flesh, my beating heart, a willing meal that refuses to remember the danger of being eaten.

“Ate?” My sister calls from above. “What are you doing?”

My eyes snap open at her voice, and it has me. I’m done. I don’t have time to regret. I only have this moment before it’s all gone—before I welcome the monster inside.

“Shut the window! Don’t…”

But I’m already forgetting, my panic fading fast. My sister grumbles and shuts the window above. I blink and see a familiar face. Doe eyes. Dark hair. Sensual piano hands cupping my wet cheeks.

“Baby, where’ve you been?” He brushes a curl from my forehead. His eyes flash with something I’m sure is concern.

“Hey baby!” I kiss his palm, confused. “Didn’t I see you yesterday? Sorry, my migraines are killing me. Have you eaten?”

“No, I’m still hungry,” he says, his smile full of teeth. “But your mom hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t!” I laugh. “Come up for dinner.”

“If you want me to.” His fingers caress my throat.

* * *

Ⓒ Deanna J. Valdez