“Mommy”I whisper into the heavy darkness of the bedroom. My voice is small, barely more than a breath. I hesitate, my bare feet frozen on the cold wooden floor as I glance back down the hallway. My room is too far. Too dark. Too open. I don’t want her to be mad at me again for waking her, but….

A soft creak echoes from behind me.

My bedroom door is opening. Slowly. Too slowly.

My stomach twists. My breath catches. My legs move before I can think, and suddenly I’m at her bedside, my little hands shaking her arm, gripping tight, my wide eyes locked on the yawning blackness of the hallway.

Tears sting at my eyes, hot and unbidden. She stirs, then jolts upright, her voice thick with sleep but laced with immediate concern. “Honey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

I swallow, hard. The words are stuck in my throat, but I force them out, sniffling. “C-can I sleep in here with you again? Please?”

She sits up, rubbing her eyes, whispering so she doesn’t wake my dad. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Go back to bed, it’s late.”

I hesitate, my whole body trembling now. I want to tell her. I need to tell her. But my voice shakes as the words slip free. “But… but I don’ want to go back to my room.”

She exhales a tired sigh, brushing my hair from my damp forehead. “Why not, honey?”

I stare past her, into the darkness beyond her doorway. The hallway is impossibly long. Stretched. Breathing.

The closet door in my room is open now.

And he’s there.

Waiting.

I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my chest.

“The man with no eyes is in my closet again.”