The Most Secret Secret

The Most Secret Secret
I’m going to tell you a secret. And not just any old secret. I’m going to tell you a big—no, huge—no, mega—secret. The biggest secret there ever was.

But perhaps I shouldn’t. Your parents will be furious, and I have quite enough to be getting on with already; I certainly don’t need an angry horde of parents on my doorstep.

You see, your parents spend a lot of time telling you things that aren’t true (not that they’re liars—I would never call your parents liars…).

What sort of lies?

Well, I bet they’ve warned you against eating ice cream for breakfast. They have undoubtedly said it can make you sick. This is a lie! A fallacy! A gross miscarriage of justice! Ice cream for breakfast is perfectly safe and delicious and I encourage you to sneak some from the freezer when your dad or babysitter or grandmother who smells like mothballs isn’t looking. Trust me, they’re eating it when you’re not looking.



But there are bigger lies they tell you too.

Like at bedtime, after they’ve read you a story and tucked you in and brought you seventy-four glasses of water, they probably do one more thing: check under your bed for monsters. Maybe they look in your wardrobe, too. They probably say there’s nothing there. They might even say monsters don’t exist. This is also a lie. A fallacy. A gross—maybe even fatal—miscarriage of justice.

Because, of course, they do exist. Monsters, that is.

That howling you hear at night? It’s not the wind, but a werewolf moaning at the moon. That tapping at your window? It’s not a branch, but a vampire inviting himself in for a snack of your blood. That creaking in the hallway? It’s not just “the house settling,” but a hag creeping toward your bedroom—they keep children as pets, you know.



Don’t believe it? I didn’t either. But after you’ve seen a mummy and been chased by ogres and walked right through a ghost—well, you’d believe it too. And, no, I can’t tell you who I am or why I’ve met so many monsters… not yet. For now, let’s just say I’m an interested party.

What’s that? You still don’t believe it? That’s a shame. You’re wrong, you know. The fact of the matter is, monsters live among us.



Just ask Theodora Hendrix.