The dark ocean washes over my feet, foam curling around my toes. This sea took all my dreams; engulfed them in its wave and swallowed them whole. Nothing escaped. A tsunami, the news called it. But I’ve been down here every night, watching, and I know better.
I stare into the abyss until I see the flick of a suckered tentacle pierce the waves. A massive form twists beneath the surface. It lurches upward, breaking through the water for long enough to turn its gleaming, obsidian eye on me, before plunging back into the depths.
Here, the monsters are real.
By Antonia Rachel Ward.