A Dream Come True

Imagine the multiverse: Atoms converging into patterns infinite. Most universes listening to physics, placing only that which should exist into reality, but there are others in which the impossible happens simply because there's no reason it is not. All the darkest horrors of the grimmest imaginations, made real with naught more than a vast cosmic whim... It is a night, like any other, and the Stevens are a family, like any other. Sleeping in a house, like any other. A house containing young boy's room, like any other. Little Howie Stevens was always an imaginative young boy. His room reflects such. Small, glow-in-the-dark stars coat the ceiling and offer dismal green light to a room otherwise blanketed in black. By this light, one might see the blue walls with thin, vertical white stripes. Simple white carpet, supports a dresser of neatly organized clothes as well as chest of toys ordered with far less finesse. The half-open closet, the lamp slumbering on the dresser, and the door shut firmly. This view in all its under-spoken peace would be decidedly picturesque but for the one small discrepancy: Young Stevens is not sleeping peacefully. No, he is quite awake and with no intention of rectifying this. He is afraid, you see. He is afraid, because Little Howie Stevens-in pajamas broadcasting his interest in small insects-sees monsters in the night. Not ones in the closet or under his bed. (At seven, he is too old for such childish fears.) He sees them on the very floor before him, fading silently into existence, confused and purposeless before blinking away to nothingness once more. They don't notice Howie and for weeks he was not sure they were appearing at all. A trick of the light or a dream creeping into conscious thought, haunting his waking hours too. But each time, they've stayed for longer. Not much. So incremental were the changes that he had no reason to notice them at all until the monsters began to stay for seconds at a time. Long enough to notice their surroundings. He has seen monsters for almost a month's time now-not every night, but every night where he lie awake past eleven. Not until the second week had he seen clearly the otherworldly beast. Abominably fat, squat hind legs, a slimy, lizard's tail wagging in the night all dyed as red as the stones of Hell. Once he saw it, the image was forever burned into his eyes like spots of colored light, ready to present itself whenever he blinked-whenever he slept-whenever he dared to let his mind wander. Last week was the worst. The monster had finally turned around to see him. At first, the monster's bulging eyes, dripping teeth, and questioning snout flashed astonishment at this young boy's presence. The next night, this emotion was replaced with another: hunger. Hunger and delight. The last few days, Howie did not sleep. Would not sleep. He stayed each time the monster whipped about and charged Young Howie-lunging to claim his meal, but always vanishing as the boy winced to meet his doom. Afterwards, he would scream and his parents would come to save their boy from a would-be criminal, only to find him sobbing in solitude. 'What's wrong, sweetie?' his mother asks, sitting down to offer a protective embrace. 'Th-there's monsters! Th-there was a monster right there a-and it keeps coming and then disappearing and now it wants to eat me!' He trails off into sobs as he awaits his parents fear-wrought plan of defense. They won't come. His father flashed his mom an askew glance and sits next to his son. 'Howie, do you know what daddy does?' 'A-a s-scientist.' 'A physicist,' he corrects proudly. 'I study everything that is possible in this world and even some things that are impossible, but if there is one thing I can tell you with absolute confidence, it's that there was no monster in this room. If there was, we would see evidence of it. How it came and left!' Exasperated, Young Howie retorts, 'It appeared! A-and then it just disappeared!' 'Son, as a physicist I assure you teleportation is, thus-far, impossible,' then he adds matter-of-factly, 'I think you just had a