I grew up believing that monsters lived under the bed, and I was right. They lurk under beds, in closets, and in shodow protected corners, sharpening their claws and dampening their snouts in preparation for a human shaped meal. The monsters I saw peeking out of my dark, cramped spaces, were put in their places by my parents many years ago. My parents have been hiding their demons away, falsely assuming that what can't be seen, can't cause pain. It wasn't until it was too late that they realized the monsters never actually disappeared. Instead they sat silently, festering in the dark, waiting for the day they could make the world even scarier for their captors' children. Thus the monsters of my parents' past became yet another burden to be passed down to the younger generation. Creatures I then had to fight... or once again hideaway.

The worst part is that this is a cycle that is almost impossible to break. It’s not until someone too burdened for their youth comes that there’s ever any chance at salvation. This prophesied child will have to use courage and wisdom from a thousand lives unlived, to face our demons. Unfortunately, people like that don’t come very often. And when they do they don’t usually survive the battles.