My mother never believed me when I warned her about the Rain Monster.

Who could blame her? I was only a young girl. He appeared on Halloween night when I was eight years old. My bucket of sweets was nearly full and the sky started to growl agitated with thunder.

“Time to go home now sweetheart.” My mother had told me. The sky then began to pour heavy rain down on our heads, drenching my day of the dead makeup. As a typical young and bratty girl, I pretended not to hear her and jogged on to the next door.

*DINNG DONGGG* The doorbell sounded. I looked cheekily behind me. Mother was gone. My eyes scanned around desperately. She was nowhere to be seen. I don't know what I was thinking knocking at a pitch-black house with no decorations. Just as I turned around to step off the porch, the door creaked. The feeling of cold and bony fingertips grazed the backs of my shoulders. Lifting up all the hairs on my neck. I slowly turned back around to face it. Him.

“Happy Halloween little one…” His voice creeped. I bit down on my tongue trying to suppress a scream. His eyes broke contact with mine and slowly looked up to the dripping porch.

“Where is your mother, little girl? It's pouring.” He asked.

”I- I don't-”

“Why don't you come inside and we can wait for her together?” He asked. Stretching out a long, fleshless hand. With razor-sharp fingernails.

“My mommy told me not to go with strangers…” I replied, stepping backwards, away from the man.

“Then at least take my umbrella to keep yourself dry.” He pulled out a large umbrella from the shadows of his doorway. As a child I was foolish. Mother all ways told me not to take things from strangers. But I stupidly leaned in and pulled out my hand to take it.

“Thank you…” I began to say, just right before he used his free hand to lock around my wrist and start dragging me in. I let out a piercing scream for my mother.

The sound must have disturbed him as he stumbled back and released his grip for a split second, giving me enough time to jump of the porch and make a run for it. I ran straight back up the street and noticed my mother sitting on the previous porch steps, waiting for me.

“You have an amazing imagination.” My mother continued to tell me. No matter how much I sobbed or begged her to believe me.

Maybe if I had tried harder to convince her that the Rain Monster was real, he wouldn't have been able to follow us home that night.

Maybe if I had taken my mother to the house and shown her herself, maybe she would still be here today.

Maybe if I hadn't disobeyed my mother at all, I would be free.

I was now celebrating my thirteenth birthday, or mourning my five years of being trapped down here.

The basement was freezing cold and filthy. It was dimly lit by a single lamp. The concrete floor was chipped and empty. Nothing comfortable for us to sleep on. It was getting overcrowded by sobbing, malnourished children.

We always felt like we were dying, but he made sure that we wouldn’t have the satisfaction of actually being at peace.

I think he meant to do that on purpose.

“Someone fetch me my umbrella!” He called out down to the basement,

“It's raining again.”

The end.

(I wrote this at 2 Am I have no idea what I'm on about.)