I used to make my father check under my bed for monsters. Just in case there was someone – or something – lurking beyond the edges of my comforter.
My brother would tell me stories of children who were eaten in their sleep.

One times, he even told me that there was a boy who forgot to check one night, and when the monster grabbed his feet, he screamed and screamed, but no noise came out. That boy was never seen again, or so the story goes…

But whether the tale was true or completely fictional, I was going make sure I would never be that boy.

So it was routine that my father would put me to bed, and tuck the covers around me like a cocoon, and then check under each side of my bed for any creatures. There never were any.