The monster inside me. Alexandr Fursov

The monster inside me - Alexandr Fursov


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onster inside me

      Hey! My name is Johnny. I am six years. I am already big, because in a couple of months I will already go to school. My mother tells me all the time that if I take food with dirty hands, then a terrible monster will penetrate me along with germs. More precisely, a small testicle will penetrate into me, from which a baby monster will hatch. And my mother also says that if I will abuse fast food, i.e. if I will often eat bigmacks, hamburgers, fries and wash it all down with sweet soda or eat other wrong food, then very soon this monster will grow up. I didn't believe it. I thought my mother deceived me so that I didn't forget to wash my hands and eat oatmeal in the morning. But today it seemed to me that inside me someone was moving and mooing, like a cow – I was scared. I remembered that in the morning I asked my dad to buy me chips, and then greedily grabbed them with unwashed hands. Is it my mother fool me, saying that because of dirty hands, monsters can appear inside a person? What should I do? Maybe it seemed to me? Need to check. I went to the kitchen and drank a sweet soda – my mother says it is very harmful. After five minutes, someone in my stomach began to move harder. I ate a cloying sweet waffle. Someone inside of me coughed. Oh my God! Mom didn't lie to me.

      – No Johnny, she didn't lie to you, – someone inside me said.

      – Who are you? – I asked.

      – Your best friend, Johnny, – he replied.

      – Best friends don't end up in someone else’s belly, – I said.

      – I am your closest friend, – he said.

      "Since when?" – I thought and said:

      – Maybe you will come out and we will play with you?

      But my ploy failed.

      – I feel good here too, – he replied.

      – What is your name? – I asked. – It turns out somehow inconvenient – you know my name, but I don’t?

      – Call me Bob, – he replied.

      – Okay, – I said. – Who are you, after all?

      – I'm a monster, Johnny! – Bob said. – Nice little monster. Maybe eat some more sweet waffles?

      – No, – I replied. – They're too cloying to me. I'm sick of them.

      – And I love them, – he said.

      – I can't eat just what you like all the time, – I said. – Let me eat what we both like.

      – Good, – Bob agreed reluctantly. – And what do you like?

      – Now I don’t know what I like, – I replied. I don't want to have a second monster inside me.

      – Decide quickly, I will really want to eat, – said Bob.

      – Too much food is bad, – I replied.

      – Who told you that? – The monster asked.

      – My mom, – I said.

      – Your mom is wrong, – Bob said.

      – My mom is always right, – I replied. – If I had listened to her, you would not be sitting in my stomach and not demanding food.

      – Well, at least a candy? – The monster asked plaintively.

      – The candy will ruin my teeth, – I replied.

      – Don’t chew, – said the monster. – Swallow whole!

      – I’m not a boa constrictor to swallow food without chewing, – I replied.

      – Well, then at least eat something! – asked the monster.

      – I can eat some porridge, – I replied.

      – Porridge? – Bob asked, disappointed.

      – Yes, healthy oatmeal, – I said.

      – I'd rather sleep, – the monster replied.

      – Goodnight! – I wished.

      I went to the kitchen and asked my mother for oatmeal.

      – What a fine fellow! – My mother praised me. – Finally, my son grew wiser and decided to eat right.

      – Yes mom! I have grown wiser, – I answered and sat down at the table. Bob was moving in my stomach – probably he could not sleep.

      – Take it easy! – The monster said to me. – Your tasteless porridge falls on me. By the way, it is badly chewed. You must better chew it!

      – Don't teach me! – I said.

      – Did you say something? – Mom asked.

      – I said the porridge is just wonderful, – I replied.

      – Thank you, son! – said my mother. – I'm very pleased. You never praised my porridge.

      Honestly, I didn't like the porridge. I never liked any porridge. But even more, I don't like the monsters that sit in my belly. I just realized that if I continue to eat fast food, then a whole family of monsters will appear inside me. Bob will have brothers and sisters. And they will all ask me to feed them something harmful. I think that one Bob inside me is enough. Therefore, it is time to switch to a healthy diet.

      – Thanks Mom! – I said. – Everything was very tasty, – and left the house.

      My friend Harry was standing on the porch.

      – Hi Johnny! – he said.

      – Hey! – I answered.

      – Would you like to take a walk to the river? – Harry asked.

      – Yes, – I replied. – I just need to warn my mom.

      – Did you ask me? – Bob's voice suddenly rang out.

      – Why should I ask you? – I replied quietly so Harry wouldn't hear. – Who are you?

      – I'm part of you, – Bob said brazenly.

      – You're not part of me, – I said. – You climbed into me without my consent, and now you decided to command me?

      – I also have rights, – the monster objected.

      – You have no rights, monster! – I answered and went into the house.

      Mom asked not to come close to the water and to behave very carefully on the shore. I promised.

      – I'd like to swim, – Bob said.

      – When I have tea, you’ll go for a swim, – I replied.

      – I don’t want to swim in tea, – the monster said.

      – Who are you talking to? – Harry asked.

      – With no one, – I said. – I’m just repeating the numbers out loud.

      – How well you know how to count? – Harry asked.

      – I can count to a hundred, – I replied.

      – And I'm only up to twenty, – sighed Harry.

      – If you can count to twenty, you can count to a hundred, – I said.

      – I don’t know how to count at all, – Bob said.

      – What is it gurgling in your throat? – Harry asked me.

      – Nothing gurgled, – I said.

      – I heard some boo-boo-boo, – Harry said.

      – You're wrong, – I replied.

      – I heard with my own ears, – Harry stubbornly said.

      – Your ears made mistake, – I eplied.

      – My ears dont mistake, – Harry said/

      – Any ears make mistake, – I said. – Are your ears special?

      – Yes, special.

      – Bigger than donkey ears?

      – No.

      – So you hear worse than a donkey, – I said.

      – I'm not an ass, – Harry said.

      – We’ve already reached the river, – I said. – What will we do?

      – Ride on


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