Nothing There by Liam Hogan

When my daddy left, he took all the monsters with him.

There was nothing breathing softly beneath my bed, nothing hiding in the wardrobe with the wonky door that always gapes open.

Under the creaking stairs, nothing lurked.

In the gloomy shadows of the yard, nothing waited for my back to be turned.
I pushed open the door to my parent’s bedroom. Mum sat on the edge of the bed, sobbing. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the shudders subside.

But when she lifted her head my fear rushed back. Behind her dull, tear-reddened eyes, there was nothing there.


Liam Hogan is an award-winning short-story writer. He helps host Liars’ League London, volunteers at the creative writing charity Ministry of Stories, and lives and avoids work in London. More at or on Twitter: @LiamJHogan.