I used to laugh at the kids at school when they told me about monsters in the closet, or the boogyman hiding beneath their beds. It seemed silly to me. I mean come on, I'm six. Things don't scare me like they do other kids. I even stay up late, after my parents are asleep, and watch those movies with the guy in the hockey mask. You know the one where he kills all those naked teenagers. None of that ever bothered me. Boy was I wrong.
It was late October, the wind outside was howling. The moon was full, casting long shadows across my room. I had planned on getting back up and watching some television since I wasn't that tired. I had just seen the light shining through the crack at the base of my door wink out into darkness. My parents were heading to bed. I was officialy alone for the night, a thought that usually pleases me. I was now free to watch television and sneak downstairs to raid the refrigerator. Mom had made fried chicken for dinner, it's my favorite, and I was already planning to tip-toe down to the kitchen to snag me a drumstick.
There was a kind of silence in my room. Not a complete silence, the wind outside made sure of that, but all that could be heard is the wind and the ticking of the clock on my nightstand. I normally find comfort in quiet like that. I like to curl up and try to read my Dr. Seuss books. If I can't figure out some of the words, the pictures would still make me laugh. I was preparing to swing my feet out over the side of my bed when I heard it. A sharp grating sound. Like fingernails down a chalkboard. My heart started beating a bit quicker as I scanned my room looking for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing I calmed myself, trying to be sensible. Surely it was just a tree limb scraping across a window, I thought, and I jumped out of bed and headed to my window to see. Only there were no limbs near my window. In fact the nearest tree to the house was in the middle of our back yard, a good ten feet away.
I was fairly shaken then. I just couldn't think of anything that could make that noise, but it sounded distantly familiar. As I began to walk back towards my bed the ear piercing grind came again, only louder. I was getting scared then. Not just the fun jolt of suprise you get when going through a haunted house or when some villain jumps out of the woods in a movie, no this was stomach churning fear. I looked all over my room, trying to find the source. A radio left on, the television on a dead station, I checked everything until my eyes came across my closet door. It stood slightly ajar, although I was fairly sure I had closed it. Then as I stared at the door the shrieking sound came again, and I knew. I knew that noise, recognized it for what it was, the hook of a metal hanger being dragged across the metal rod in my closet.
I backed away from my closet as quickly as I could, falling onto my bed as the backs of my legs hit the footboard. There was something in my closet, something was in there waiting to get me. I now knew that I had been wrong to laugh at the other kids. I rolled on my bed, scrambling to get to my nightstand and the flashlight hidden in its drawer. The creak of my closet door being slowly pushed wide echoed through my room. I was whimpering in my fright, clawing at the drawer, nearly pulling it into the floor. I searched frantically through the drawer, pulling things out and tossing them aside in my mad rush to find the flashlight.
Yes! My hand grasped the heavy shaft of the flashlight and I turned to sit up on my bed, backing myself against the headboard as I tried to turn on the light. I flipped the switch on, but the light wouldn't shine. I fearfully looked towards my closet to see a white boney hand gripping the door. The pale hand issued from a dirty black robe that seemed to blend with that shadows in the closet, making the hand seem to come from nowhere. I began to shake the flashlight, smacking across the palm of my hand, desperately hoping to milk the last of the batteries power into light. I couldn't run to the light switch, I'd have to pass the closet to get there. Giving the light a final shake I aimed it at the closet, seeing a pare of irridescent eyes floating where my coats should be. Praying for it to work, I flipped the switch. Light, blessed light came flowing from the end of the device. The thing in the closet screamed as the beam played itself across it's form. Smoke rose from it's midnight robe as the creature attempted to melt back into the shadows. I shined the light directly at the monsters face, that pale and horrifying face. I screamed then, and passed out still gripping the flashlight.
The next thing I remember I was waking up in a hospital. My parents had heard me scream and rushed into my room, flipping on the lights when they entered. The room was a mess, everything from my drawer was scattered about the room, my closet was wide open, the clothes inside swaying or strewn about on the floor. They found me unconcious, propped against the headboard gripping my flashlight for dear life. When they tried to wake I started flailing at them with the light, screaming, but I wouldn't wake up. Finally they managed to bring me here to the hospital. They think somebody broke into my room and tried to kidnap me. The doctors gave me something to help me sleep, and my parents are still talking to the doctors out in the hall. My room is nice and dark, the bed is comfortable. I can feel sleep coming to take me away. The creak of the closet door echoes through my hospital room, but I'm too sedated to scream.
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