I finally made it home before oppressing darkness.
The door was already open.
I don’t remember leaving it that way.
The house smells of something rotten.
A whisper calls my name from upstairs.
I should leave, but my feet are heavy and won’t move.
The whispers sound exactly like me.
Wretched laughter erupts when I reach the top step.
My bedroom door slowly creaks open by an invisible force.
I can sense it inside, breathing.
It knows I’m here.
It’s been waiting.

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