When I woke up I heard the screams ringing throughout the house. ‘She’s screaming again.’ I thought to myself as I threw off the covers, my bare feet pounding against the icy cement floor. I took the stairs two at a time until I got to the upstairs landing, sprinting down the hall until I stood in front of my sister’s room. Opened the door and stepped inside, flicking on the light. “Natasha, it’s okay.” I told her, going up to the edge of her bed.
Natasha clutched her stuffed polar bear to her chest. “The monster under my bed almost got me and Kumajiro.” She sniffled. I sat on her bed, my feet dangling over the edge.
“Natasha, sweetheart, there’s no monster under your bed.” I gave a small sigh. “We’ve been over this.” She said nothing, still holding Kumajiro to her chest. “Go to sleep.” I stood, running a hand through my hair.
“D-Don’t turn out the light. It keeps the monster away.”
I didn’t look back at her. “Fine. Just for tonight, though.” She got settled back in her bed, eyes closing. “Goodnight Natasha.”
I left her door slightly open, heading down to the basement where my bedroom was. For the first night since I was little I left my door open.
I would never make that mistake again.
For the second time that night I was awoken, but not by my younger sister’s screams. My eyes opened, seeing nothing but the ever-lasting shadows. “My door…” I muttered, knowing that I had left it open. It was closed. I sat up, and that’s when the smell hit me. It was a mixture of garbage and death, a rotten, foul smell that made my eyes water, a smell I hadn’t before experienced.
This overwhelming sensation; a sensation of confusion, fear, and lack of breath all mixed into one bloomed in my chest. A low and malevolent growl erupted, shattering the deafening silence previously. “What the hell?!” I gasped, searching for my lamp by the side of my bed. No matter how or where I searched I felt nothing. I couldn’t see anything at all; I was shrouded in complete darkness. The growl grew louder, sounding like it was coming from every direction.
Looking back on it now, I really should’ve closed my door.