The Boy on the Bank

The monsters we face are the monsters we make, and no one knows this better than the boy on the bank.

Many years ago and in the lonely woods, lived a child with his family, who were contented and good. He spent many days playing among the trees, and many nights more looking up at a starry sea.

But his most favorite pass time was to be by the stream, and sit by a waterfall watching the water gleam. But spring turns to summer in the way time must pass, and as summer becomes fall, we know these days will not last.

For the boy you see was starting to grow old, and as his youth left him, his heart became cold. The trees he played among he defaced with paint, and the stars last their luster growing dim and faint.

But his heart would soften when he came to the stream and sat by the water's edge like figure from a dream. It was at night went he snuck out to sit there alone, the cool air settling, making his skin white as bone.

However his crimes carried on and his mischief saw no end, as he continued to give in to his heart full of sin. And so, one night, when the moon was round, the boy disappeared from his unsuspecting town.

It is said that he visited the stream that night, in the hopes of making his heart gay and light. But as he sat up there on that bank, he was startled by a smell that was wet, foul and dank.

He looked all around and saw no sign, of what caused the scent that smelled like a swine. Suddenly a noise, echoed through the air, and the boy was startled though far from scared.

He glanced over the water and saw ripples on the surface; they moved without cause, or grace, or purpose. He waited a while but saw no more and went back to his thoughts before being interrupted once more.

Ker PLUNK! came the noise, and his eyes snapped back, to see that the ripples once again made their tracks. Curiouser and curiouser the boy soon became until he decided to play a little game.

He abandoned his shirt on the bank, his shoes tucked under, before sliding in the stream, the water's chill making him shudder. His walk became a wade as he reached the deepest part, and slowly began searching with his curious heart.

Ker PLUNK! went the noise, this time from behind, and the boy turned to look but sadly not in time. The thing vanished again so he went to see, but failed to find it and wondered what it could be.

KER-PLUNK! much closer, and his heart jumped with fright, and before he knew it, he was dragged out of sight! There was no cry, no holler or scream, and the water became placid in the quiet little stream.

No trace of him was found, except his shoes and shirt, and many began to wonder if he was swallowed by the earth. But there are rumors that tell of a ghostly specter that sits by the bank whatever the weather.

When the moon is full, and the night is still, and passerbys venture out for a thrill; it is said by them if you go to the creek, you're sure to see a sight that will make you freak.

A boy sits lonesome, and will only stare at you, his skin white as bone his lips a deathly blue. His name is unknown and his purpose unclear, but his image is frightful and will fill you with fear.

Now I cannot say if the stories are even true; it is merely an example of the advice I pass to you: The monsters we face are the monsters we make, and no one knows this better than the boy on the bank.