True Tales of Terror

HOLD MY HAND!

Joshua was already eight years old, but he still sometimes got scared when he went to bed at night. The room was so dark. The house around him creaked. And he was convinced that there was a monster that lived under his bed that wanted to grab him.
 
“Please daddy,” he pleaded. “Just stay in here and hold my hand until I fall asleep.”
 
His father protested, saying Joshua was too old for this now, but he quickly gave in to the scared little boy. He sat down beside the bed and took his son’s hand. Comforted by the presence of his father, Joshua soon began to nod off. 
 
His father, believing Joshua was asleep, let go of his hand so he could leave the room. Joshua stirred slightly at the movement, not opening his eyes, but reaching out from the bed for his father’s hand. Once again, the boy found comfort by holding hands and Joshua had just settled back down to go to sleep when his bedroom door squeaked.
 
The little boy half-opened his sleepy eyes and felt the hand squeezing extra tight as he saw his father slipping out the door on the other side of the room. 
 
Something under the bed smiled and licked its lips. 
 
The boy’s scream caught in his throat as the dark figure beneath him spoke.
 
“It’s just me, your Mom. Your father and I thought it would be funny if I crawled under here to startle you, but in retrospect, it was probably just mean. I’ll see myself out. Night night.”