Unsurprisingly, the monster vanished. Edna looked at the door. Through its little circular window, she saw a pretty face. The mouth was like one on a Barbie doll, only more crimson and more alive. The eyes were like the first star in the evening sky. It was a young and delicate face just like her own. In fact, it was exactly the same as her own. But she was sure she wasn't looking in a mirror, because her own face was shocked while the face through the circular window looked quite happy. Her hair was also shorter.

"Elsa," said Edna, "you are still alive?"

Elsa opened the locked door. She hugged Edna so tight that Edna made an "eeek" sound. Edna closed her eyes, couldn't understand whether it was all just a dream or something even more bizarre. When she opened her eyes again, she saw her room. It could be legally called a room now. The bleached door was still the same. The room was empty except for her bed, which looked exactly like before. But the walls were back together. They had a bleached color and were covered with thick padding, just like all other cells in this mental hospital.

"So after all, I was just a nut-girl," said Edna, still, her face had an innocent happy-girl look.

"You are as sane as anyone else in the world," Elsa whispered.

"So all those monsters were real?"

"They are as real as everyone's own fear."

"So I didn't make a fool of myself by hiding under my bed?"

"It wasn't your fault. It's the fault of your bed. It made up all these illusions just to make sure it was the most important thing in the world. Your bed felt insecure. That's a common fear among all beds. Dreams are illusions. So is fear. They are just the shadow of the string, which you thought was snake. And a shadow never bites. I knew because I had dreamed all kind of dreams for years. After all, the baseball bat did take away my consciousness for quite a while."