Comhroinn Fuaime

I babysit for my neighbor’s kid. Eight years old. Quiet, but sweet. Last night, he told me something weird before bed. He said, “If I’m gone in the morning, don’t open the closet.” I laughed it off. Kids say creepy things. At 2:13 AM, I woke up to his voice. From the closet. “Can you let me out?” I froze. The door was shut. I put him to bed—I was sure of it. Then I heard his voice again. But this time… it came from the hallway. “Don’t open it.” Two voices. Same kid. I didn’t move. I