They're not fake, or imaginary, they're real. All too real. They don't live under her bed; or in her closet. They don't come out at night when she's alone or when she's scared.
They don't have glowing eyes.
Their eyes aren't blood red, or golden yellow, they aren't pitch black; they're brown. The same color brown as her eyes. She's scared, she hides under her bed with her shadow.
Shut your ears, seal your eyes close tight; sweet little goat. They're coming to you, hide away, stay silent; the monsters are here.
What are they?
They don't live under her bed; no, they live in the room across from hers. They sleep under the same roof as her, they share the same meals as her. Hold yourself tight, here they come.
Don't hurt her, she's only so small. It's too late though, isn't it?