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I remember reading a short story on the internet, maybe a year or two ago, that was about a monster under the bed of a little girl. The story took about 10 minutes to read I think. Can you help me remember what the name of this story was and where I can find it?

The story was written from the monster's perspective and started with him complaining that he would have to do this job because the others failed. It was a monologue that reminded me of someone who just had a stressful week and now got dumped a pile of work on his desk on a Friday afternoon. He was one of the higher monsters in the hierarchy.

There seemed to be a sort of company of "monsters under the beds of little children" and they were supposed to scare them for untold reasons. This reminded me of the movie Monster, Inc., though the movie explains why the monsters would scare children - the story does not explain this and feels darker.

Nobody managed to scare the little girl and nobody knew why she wasn't scared. When he tries to scare her she just starts talking to him. After a bit of dialogue and the obvious confusion on the side of the monster someone starts coming for the room of the little girl, so the monster hides (under the bed, of course).

He then realizes why she wasn't afraid of monsters under her bed - her father(?) was an abusive man and I think he was basically threatening her (or her mother?) in his drunken state. The little girl was afraid of the monsters that she would have to face every day.

This made the monster furious and when the man tries to lay hands on the little girl the monster comes out from under the bed and scares the s%&! out of the man, making sure that he won't ever do this again. He also says that he will stay at the little girl's side - "because I am the monster under her bed!" (Or something like that.)

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    Maybe this tumblr story? – AesSedai101 Dec 6 '17 at 13:50
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    @AesSedai101 - You should propose it as an answer, since it matches a little closer than the answer given. It's not unlikely that one is based on the other, but... – Jeff Zeitlin Dec 6 '17 at 14:35
  • @AesSedai101 I didn't see these comments and steal the answer from you, I had seen this story last week while going through Pinterest. Didn't see these comments until I submitted it already. Glad to know I'm not the only one that thought of that story though! – bubbajake00 Dec 6 '17 at 15:14
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    @bubbajake00 no worries! I'm glad you wrote up a proper answer :) – AesSedai101 Dec 6 '17 at 17:43
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    @bubbajake00, Meh, even if you did steal it, comments are not for answering questions and that's the best way to discourage people from treating the comment section as a low-effort answer box. – user1717828 Dec 7 '17 at 1:48
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There's a similar story in picture format on Pinterest and online here. It fits all of your criteria I believe.

It is from the monster's perspective, who also assigns the monsters (being higher up in the hierarchy) and seems exasperated going through all the monsters it had sent beforehand:

I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn't scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters...I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying!

I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself.

You said it seems like it is a company, to which this applies:

...her little brother Daniel...Across the room underneath Daniel's crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster.

You also said that he seemed confused as to why she wasn't scared, and I think this fits that based on the speech pattern. In common practice, short, one word sentences are a way to show disbelief and confusion.

...Charlotte scrambles off the bed and...

She. Crawls. Under. The. Bed. With. Me.

"Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I do.

It fits that it is a man (her drunken father) who is the true monster:

...I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of my monster; she's afraid of her own.

And after it discovers the monster of a father:

"What the..." I cut Francis's next words off by unfolding mt full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face.

"If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity." I promise to him.

As Francis runs from the room he soils himself.

So he quite literally as you said, scares the s%&! out of the man

It also ends very closely to the line you mentioned:

I am the monster under her bed.

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    This might be from /r/WritingPrompts. – Simon Richter Dec 7 '17 at 8:06
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The Monster Under the Bed: A Short Story, by Mary Ariola, published in The Odyssey, available online.

The story was written from the monster's perspective and started with him complaining that he would have to do this job because the others failed.

What the hell am I supposed to do? I think to myself as I sit at my desk. Jennie Miller has yet again rejected another monster assigned to her.

It was a monologue that reminded me of someone who just had a stressful week and now got dumped a pile of work on his desk on a Friday afternoon. He was one of the higher monsters in the hierarchy.

I read through her file with my tentacle fingers, and see that she has had 56 monsters total, all having been brought back to headquarters because she wasn’t afraid.

There seemed to be a sort of company of "monsters under the beds of little children" and they were supposed to scare them for untold reasons.
Nobody managed to scare the little girl and nobody knew why she wasn't scared.

Are my men not scary enough? That’s impossible, we have the best training to prepare our monsters for the human world. But what five-year-old can be capable of rejecting so many monsters consecutively?

I decide to assign myself to little Jennie Miller.

He then realizes why she wasn't afraid of monsters under her bed - her father(?) was an abusive man and I think he was basically threatening her (or her mother?) in his drunken state. The little girl was afraid of the monsters that she would have to face every day.

This was the mother, not the father, but yes, she's drunk and abusive:

“I have company over, you ungrateful baby,” the woman spits, “That could be your new daddy out there. Don't you want a daddy?”

“Yes mommy,” I barely hear Jennie whisper over the loud swig the woman takes from the bottle in her hands.

“You look at me when I’m talking to you,” there’s more anger in her voice, and she takes a step toward the bed, “I am your mother, God dammit, you need to show me more respect.” Her voice raises and I hear Jennie begin to cry.

“You’re such a little baby. Five-year-olds don’t cry like you do, or yell at nothing and interrupt their mothers’ important meetings. You’re such an embarrassment.”

Jennie begins to cry harder, and the woman takes a few more steps towards the bed while rolling her eyes.

This made the monster furious and when the man tries to lay hands on the little girl the monster comes out from under the bed and scares the s%&! out of the man, making sure that he won't ever do this again. He also says that he will stay at the little girl's side - "because I am the monster under her bed!"

Well, it's "Because she's mine!", but close enough:

I shoot out from underneath the bed and stand between Jennie and the woman. I hear them gasp, and the woman begins to step back. I tower over her and narrow my eyes.

“Who the f*** are --“

“Leave her alone, she’s mine,” I snarl. I stretch my tentacle arms out to block the bed even more.

“I will always be here, with her. If you ever lay a hand on her, I swear, I will make you regret it.” Purple sweat oozes from my skin out of anger, and the woman begins to tremble.

For every step I take towards her, she takes two back until she's out of the room and in the hallway.

Yellow liquid runs down her leg.

“She’s mine,” I repeat in a hiss, as I shut the door in her face. I turn around to see little Jennie climbing off of her bed and running towards me.

I found this story by Googling monster under the bed story abusive parents short, which seemed like a good set of keywords, and... viola, the first result was The Odyssey Online when searching in Hebrew (5th down the page searching in English).

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    I'd clarify it's clearly her mother who is the abuser in this case. From context it sounds as if the mother is a single mother who is often 'dating' other men. The statement about "That could be your new Daddy" is the mother suggesting the current man she is dating could marry her and take care of them; though One would presume from context and behavior that she likely goes through many such 'potential Daddies' with them not being interested in anything long term. In any case the abuser is always refereed to with female pronouns and clearly is the child's mother. – dsollen Dec 6 '17 at 16:06
  • @dsollen Yeah, but this one is longer – DCOPTimDowd Dec 6 '17 at 19:22
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    This one is much better written, in my opinion. – stannius Dec 6 '17 at 20:24
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    This one is published after the one that's accepted as the answer – Igor Soloydenko Dec 7 '17 at 2:31
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https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/6hdqc0/im_the_monster_who_lives_in_your_closet/

I read this on r/nosleep recently.

Told from the perspective of the monster. Father is abusive.

You read that correctly. Monsters do exist, and yes, we live in your closet. You have almost certainly spent much of your life mere feet from a closet monster. You’re more likely to notice us at night, we’re more likely to be near you when you’re children, and yes, you would be absolutely terrified if you saw us.

And it’s all so unfair.

[...]

My current human’s name is Julie. She’s six years old, very kind, and very smart. Any parent would be proud of her.

But her father does not treat her like she deserves.

[...]

I grab Julie’s father around the waist and pull. He fights back. He yells. Julie screams.

I raise him up and stagger backward. He’s writhing and punching as I back toward the door.

My skin feels like it’s on fire. I move faster.

I’m able to get him out of the room, and I pull Julie’s door shut. There’s a wide swath of early morning sun streaming in through the hallway window. It lands on my legs, and I feel like I’m being cut in half. I stagger.

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    Three different stories with the same plot and different details. I hope they're all by the same person or on a creative commons license! :-) – WGroleau Dec 8 '17 at 1:56

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