The crickets chirp in the distance as the claws of darkness overpower the light fortress around me. The stillness is palpable in my room, and I can feel the glassy stare of the dolls on the shelf. They watch as I curl into the false safety that is the cover and warmth of my blanket.
They seem silent and inanimate in the dark. Their frozen smiles are an eerie reminder of their lifeless presence. They also warn of the chance, even in the slightest, that they may spring to life at a moment’s notice, eager to claim their rightful place amongst the ranks of the living.
The floors creek and groan, walls expanding and contracting. ‘It’s just the normal inhales and exhales of an old house,’ Mommy would always say. So, I close my eyes and open my ears, keen on listening to the deafening whispers of the silent in the dark. I hear them talk, but I cannot understand what they say.
Are they friend, or are they foe?
There is no way I could truly say.
Then came the whisper. A rasping voice dancing in the confined halls of my wandering mind, ‘Soon. Soon you will feel my breath against the delicate stretch of your pulsating neck. Soon…’
