Told from the POV of the monster.

Each night I crawl from under the bed so I can observe. Her snore is almost as pretty as her laugh. But both things may be the as grand as the other.

I listen to her every day. The way she talks, cries, reacts to her parents. And each night from the moment she sleeps, I sit and document every word. Because I have a plan, a plan to marry her, could a dream like that be so absurd?

Her sleeping breaths are broken by two-second intervals. Each night I could two hundred and sixty-four before she wakes.

Each morning I hear her moan and groan to mum and dad as her school bag is picked up from the floor.

But at home time she sounds estatic. Especially when talks about everything she learned at school for the day. And If I'm lucky I'll catch a glimpse of her smile, which leaves me happy for hours.

The next morning I made my plan to talk to her. But before I could stop her, she got up and quickly ran to the shower. I walked in to the passage, waiting near the door to confess my feelings when she finished.

But her father saw me in the hallway and my gosh was he scared. He looked at me with big eyes and said, "Mr. Johnson, what are you doing in our house?"

I fumbled, bumbled, and muttered a poor excuse. He graciously directed me out the door, to my house next door. "It's best if you stay in your home, Mr. Johnson. It gets cold out on mornings like these," he said.

I heard him chuckling all the way back to his house. Closing the door behind him with such confidence.

But he failed to see the whole truth. Some days his daughter would be alone from 3 - 4 and I could still get in through the home roof.