It starts the same way every night.
The sun goes down and, as if by clockwork, a screech echoes out across the house.
It doesn’t matter where you hide. It will always find you. You’ve tried to leave your house. It follows you. You’ve tried hiding in the shed out back. It broke the door off. You’ve tried staying the night at a friend’s place. It followed you. You tried hiding in the cabinet under your kitchen sink. It dragged you out bodily.
Tonight you sit at the kitchen table, drinking bourbon from the bottle. You are failing to down the memory of its talons digging into your flesh and the pure white glow of its eyes. But from where you sit, you can see the splinters on the edge of the cabinet door where it ripped it off its hinges.
Tonight, you wait for it to join you. There’s no reason to fight.
Right on time, the monster appears in the doorway. The kitchen light reflects off its feathers. You never noticed that the monster was green.
“What do you want from me?” you whisper, defeated.
The monster hoots, satisfied. “It’s time for your daily Spanish lesson. Take 5 minutes to complete it!”