My monster.

That's what you'd always called him. From a young age, at least four years old. At first, you'd been scared of him. He'd been the monster in your closet for as long as you could remember. You didn't dare use your closet for a few months because of him. You were too scared.

But, over time, you gained bravery. You opened the doors late at night and dared to ask who was there. That's when the bond started. You stayed up late to spend time with him. You two played games, read together, watched funny animal videos on YouTube, and became best friends. Several mornings, your parents would awaken and find you sleeping late in the closet in a pile of clothes, when the night before you'd actually fallen asleep in his arms.

Years had gone by. You're twenty-four now. Scylla fell in love with you. But you'd never known him as anything other than your monster. When you got accepted into Harvard, you'd moved out. Took all your stuff and left. You didn't think of saying goodbye. You'd just...Left.

His heart broke in two, and you kept one half.

Four or five years - he isn't sure - passed. You didn't visit him whenever you came back to your parents for the holidays. They haven't moved from the house, thank goodness. He's still lived in the closet all this time. His heart didn't heal.

Your parents still don't know about him. Scylla likes that he's still your secret. You've been in the house for two days. He'd overheard that you'd be staying for two weeks. Then you'll leave to graduate college and then come and move back in. You still haven't visited him. Scylla doesn't think you remember him.

It's only when he hears the familiar creak of the wooden floor of your bedroom outside your closet that he thinks you do.