Developmental stages in a child's understanding of death or loss
The Monster Under My Bed
When I was little, a Monster lived under the bed. He was waiting to eat me, so he could be fed. No one believed me, not my Dad or my Mom. Every time they looked under the bed, the Monster was gone.
My friends couldn't see him. They said I was weird. But I knew the truth: this Monster I feared.
I wouldn't get up unless someone was with me. For I was afraid the Monster would get me.
I'd worry in bed, the whole night long. In the morning, though, he would always be gone.
I know of a place monsters go in the day. I think that they hide there or maybe just play. When it is dark and day becomes night, out then they come to find a small bite.
One day my Aunt came over to stay. She told me once she felt the same way. She'd shake in her bed all through the night. Then her sister helped her lose all her fright.
My Aunt told me to draw my monster as ugly as I could. She wanted to make sure it looked just as it should.
So that night I worked hard. I knew how he looked. I drew the hard parts from my scariest book.
Then in the morning my Aunt came to see. She said, "You're right, that's how he once looked to me."
"Now add a yellow dress, with a pink polka-dot vest. Also, you'll need a purple and blue hat with green tights that look like that."
"Does he still look scary?" she asked as she smiled. "Isn't he silly dressed in that style?"
We both laughed until tears ran down my face. And my fears disappeared without a trace.
So, if you have a monster living under your bed, you might want to try what my Aunt wisely said.
I have lovingly written it down to be read. And I've named it, "The Monster Under My Bed."