I didn’t know what to say. I told her it was just shadows, just her imagination, but she shook her head. “No,” she said. “He waits until it’s dark.” That night, I decided to stay in her room until she fell asleep. I kept the lights off to prove nothing was there. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. Around midnight, I felt something strange. Not a sound, not a movement… just a feeling. Like someone else was there. I turned slowly toward the door. It was slightly open. I know I closed it. And for a second… I thought I saw a shape. Tall. Still. But when I turned on the light… nothing was there. The next morning, I asked her to describe him. She said something I can’t forget. “He looks at you… not me.
Would you let your child sleep there again?
