I kind of remember the night before, but it’s hard to say.
That morning came like a tidal wave, sweeping away everything we once knew and thought as safe.
I remember being glued to the television for hours, watching everything on repeat, listening to my mother crying in the other room and holding a newspaper, her eyes red and tired.
We saved all of the newspapers.
From then on The Monster had entered our lives: my life.
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“We see like children, and when we try to be wise we see nothing.”
– Oswald Chambers.
Once upon a time there was a little boy named Josh, who loved to listen to his mother read to him. She had read the Magic Castle Reader storybooks dozens of times but the boy still insisted she read them again, especially before bed. They were simple romantic stories that usually used animals as main characters. He had his favorites of course, and always knew what was going to happen next but this boy enjoyed hearing the story play out, from beginning to end, over and over, always left marveling. He couldn’t read the words but it didn’t matter because he still grasped the story. The pictures helped but his colorful imagination filled in all the gaps taking the story much further than the pages. Each tale ended with a happily ever after. This along with his favorite television show, Eureka’s Castle, captivated his attention and occupied his mind. Together, he and his mom would sit in the living room, the books on the coffee table in front of the television, and the two would flee to a world of fancy. As he grew up, his mother fed his creativity and wonder about the world. Her little boy was her escape from her own deep sadness. She was astonished that Josh started speaking legitimate sentences at only one year old. Questions that murmured and clamored tumbled from his overactive brain and spluttered out his mouth. Mom didn’t always have the answers…
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