When I was little my step brothers used to tell me that there was a boogeyman that livedunder the beds of little kids. At first I didn't believe them and merely shrugged them off then I went in and asked my parents if it was true and they assured me that it wasn't. Well one night when my parents went out with a few of their friends, my younger siblings and I were stuck home with the eldest brothers.
My sisters were curled up in my mom's bed because that was their routine, one is mentally disabled and the other was around 4. I climbed into bed and as I was laying in bed my blanket was being pulled off the bed, I tugged it up when I thought it was falling off. At the precise moment my parent's pulled into the drive way my brother screamed which caused me to shriek and burst into hysterical tears.
My parents ran in and I immediately refused to go to bed because of the boogeyman that lived under my bed. All three of my brother's were grounded for 2 months each and they had to come home straight after school and no stopping anywhere.
It took me the longest time to sleep in my bed, I had started to sleep on the couch under my mom or dad's jacket for protection. My older sister who lived with us at the time tried to reassure me that there were no monsters under my bed, but I was too scared to believe her.
Then she told me that she wouldn't let them hurt me and I started to sleep in my bed once she came home and was in the same room with my sisters and I, it was only then that I felt safe sleeping in my room because she had just come home from the Army boot camp and could kick the Boogeyman's butt...
My brother's used to tell me that the monster under the bed grabs little kids by their hands and feet and pulls them under the bed and they will never be seen again, they always laughed when they told me.
Now when I sleep I won't allow my hands or feet to dangle over the bed, I tuck my blankets around my feet to ensure that they won't hang over. Sure I'm 47 now, but some of that still lingers with me and forever will.
As horrible as this sounds, but two have passed away and the youngest one is alive, but living in Oklahoma. He to this day doesn't remember when it was him under my bed and told me I was making up "stories" again. Good thing I'm not the only one who remembers and who would remind him of the time he did it to me and how funny they thought it was.