He waits, in my closet. I try to tell them, but nobody listens to me. He’s still there, waiting. Every night I go to bed, and every night I hear him whisper singing.

“Kyle, Kyle goes to bed. Cannot wait til he is dead. Kyle, Kyle fast asleep. Soon his body I will eat.”

It has been a week, I can’t get his words out of my head. I look at my Mommy, it’s now nine. “Kyle, bed time!”

“But I don’t want to go to bed, the man with no eyes is waiting for me in my closet!” I pleaded, I’m only eight!

She was firm, “Now, Kyle! There is no man in your closet!”

I quietly head up to bed, terrified. As I go to lay down, I see him, he’s smiling as he sings. “Kyle, Kyle only eight. His body is in a perfect state. Kyle, Kyle sealed your fate. No longer time to wait.”

The next day, his mother went to wake Kyle, only to find a blood stained, empty bed. She could hear a faint voice, singing. “Kyle, Kyle took his life. Slit his throat with a knife. Kyle, Kyle so tasty. Did not go to wasty.”