“Melany, don’t worry. Look, nothing is in here,” my mother says reassuringly.
The room seems to brighten, as do I, at my mother’s soft words.
“Oh, oh, okay,” I stutter.
It seems to me that my mother has been saying that to me every night for as long as I can remember. The door shut behind my mother as she left the room and the same dark feeling fell over me.
It’s 2 a.m. and I still can’t get to sleep. I’ve lived in this house since I was born. It’s the last house on a dead end street right next to the woods. The houses on our street are dull, with dull people living in them with the exception of my next-door neighbor who is a clown in a traveling circus. His house is hot pink.
For the past couple of years I have been afraid of my closet. Every time my mom opens the closet there’s nothing there but I know something is in there hiding. Each night I’m afraid the thing, whatever it is will get me. I see things, hear things and sense things. Something IS in my closet. Is it my imagination? The past couple of nights I have been without sleep. They say if you go without sleep for a certain amount of time you’ll go crazy. I don’t think I’m crazy………..
“MELANY!! MELANY!! WHERE ARE YOU??” I hear my mother screaming for me but I don’t know how to get to her. I’m cold, scared and it’s dark. I feel something around me but I don’t know what. I don’t know where I am and all I know is that last night I finally opened my closet door.