Jenny went mad and no one noticed.
“It’s just a phase,” said her parents.
Jenny resented them so they sent her to a therapist.
“It perfectly normal,” said the therapist. “Part of growing up is rejecting the established order, pushing boundaries.”
She didn’t notice the madness either.
Jenny began to question her insanity.
If everyone thought she was normal, maybe she was.
“But why don’t they notice you, then?” she asked the toothy thing that crept into her room at night.
It smiled at her and hissed softly, like a teakettle boiling.
It kept its hands folded piously, claws bright in the moonlight.
She coaxed it into a box and took it out to the kitchen.
Her parents were watching the Daily Show and laughing.
“What are you doing up, honey?” said her mother. “Can’t sleep?”
Jenny shook her head and opened the box.
“What d’ya got, kiddo?” said her father and peered inside.
It smiled at them with miles of teeth.
Her mother put a hand inside, absently, and stroked the top of its head.
It burbled and butted against her hand.
“It’s a Jabberwock,” said her father.
Out came the claws and the Jabberwock crashed through the table.