There is nothing under the bed.

There is nothing under the bed, Lola thought firmly. I am a senior level theoretical psychologist and there is nothing under the bed. Its all a matter of perception, really. My room is dark and I am here alone, and these are ideal conditions for the brain's primitive defensive mechanism to kick in. In a minute or two now it is going to relax enough for me to fall in a deep, refreshing sleep...

There is nothing under the bed, Lola told herself strictly. It wouldn't even fit in there, for hell's sake!, she mentally pictured her little bed reassuringly. Its not physically possible and even monsters have to obey the laws of physics. Unless it was a tiny monster, a teeny voice inside her head said. But everyone knows tiny monsters aren't that scary, Lola argued with herself. Its the big ones you should really look out for. Somewhat comforted by her reasoning, Lola rolled over and closed her eyes.

There is nothing under the bed. Lola was cross with herself now. Everyone else managed to sleep without being driven paranoid by the thought of childhood fears under their beds, so why not her? There are no monsters anyway. I believe someone would have mentioned something by now if there were, she thought, trying to put her resolute mind to rest. And besides, people have looked all over: in jungles and space and even under the earth. If they couldn't find any monsters on mars or under the Gobi desert, there is no reason why there would be one under here right now. Does the Gobi desert even exist anymore? Why, I am just going to get up and prove to myself that there is no monster under my bed. Muttering at the injustice of the world and her poor over-worked brain, Lola got up and knelt down to peek. See? Nothing there.

And the monster under her bed swallowed her in one big fat gulp.