Finding Monsters Read Free Page A

feel his antennae caressing my face. “And I wish I could say goodbye to my mother,” I finish on a small sob. I feel warmth on my face and sense a small light glowing.
    “Tell her now, Missy. Say your goodbyes. She will hear you. It’s my final gift to you,” he says.
    I want to cry but I keep my voice soft and even. “Mom, I love you. I love you so much. I’m ok now, it’s ok to let me go,” I say. I hear her voice in my head; she hears me. I sense the light fading and know the link is gone. “She heard me, thank you.” I feel truly peaceful. “I have to go now. I’ll always love you, Cha r lie,” I say, as I feel myself slipping away.
    “I’ll always love you too, Missy,” was the last thing I heard him say.
     
    I’m not ashamed to let tears fill my eyes and roll down my face. I didn’t want my time with Missy to end. I glance at her again; she looks asleep and at peace. I make myself believe it. It is difficult for me, but I force m y self to stay alive until the right time. Two days pass. I eat from the flowers around me and sun only when the sunlight touches my wings. Then I see the procession of cars. It’s a small and intimate gathering of humans. I watch the odd ritual and wait until the box is lo w ered and covered with dirt and flowers. I smile to myself when I see the large tulips being placed on the grave. I only venture closer when the humans leave. I carry my beloved Missy to the site and lay her in one of the t u lips and then I lay down beside her.
    “I’m glad we played,” I whisper as I close my eyes, wanting to join my precious human in death. The shimmering blue light rises inside the tulip and I hear the voice of my father.
    “I’m here, son. Come home to us.” I don’t respond b e cause it can’t be real. I want death to claim me. I feel the warmth and comfort of the shimmering blue light as it encases me. My consciousness slips away as the blue light fades, leaving the tulip empty.

PART TWO
    THE MONSTER

Chapter 4
     
    I should be dead. I’m afraid to open my eyes just in case I am. The surface I am lying on feels soft like a bed but how can that be? I stir and hear the rustle of cove r lets. I clinch my hands and feel the soft blanket covering my body. It has all the fami l iar feelings of home but it can’t be true. I venture a tentative look. The room is dark and only small slivers of light escape the heavy drapes covering the windows. The stone walls come into focus, my room. A familiar hand soothes my brow, and I hear a voice beside the bed.
    “Wake up, my son.”
    I instantly recognize the voice of my mother. “Mother, where am I?”
    “You’re home.” She continues to rub my brow, hair, and arms. She leans forward and I see her face for the first time in a long while. She smiles but her face is pinched in concern. Her large, gray eyes are moist from crying but she is still beautiful. I’ve really missed her face. She kisses my forehead and embraces me. I want to ask her why I am not dead, but a figure standing near the door interrupts my thoughts.
    “Mother, leave us now. I need to speak to our son alone.”
    I hear the disapproving voice of my f a ther. I cling to my mother’s hand in an a t tempt to get her to stay. She kisses me again and pats my arm for reassurance before she obeys my father and leaves the room, clo s ing the door behind her.
    My father is slow in his approach to my bedside. His fe a tures remain hidden in the dimness of the room so I am unable to read his face. “You should have come to us, son. You broke the rules.” He is pacing at the foot of the bed now. His hands wring the end of his tunic in a nervous gesture I’ve seen dozens of times.
    “I know, father. I’m sorry.” Something in his voice tells me he is not as angry as he should be. I try to push myself into a sitting position. My muscles protest and strain against my e f forts. Father rushes in and stops me.
    “No, you are not well enough. Don’t try to sit up.” He