She stared out into the open window, wide eyed and curious, looking for something that she dare not speak of. “Who’s there?” Her whisper seemed to echo throughout the night. Her room was a good size for a five year old, but she often felt watched. An old woman would linger in the hall, but no one ever saw her the way she did. Her once white gown covered in Crimson splotches and brown muck, and her pale wrinkled face with whited out eyes always seemed so frightening. “Who’s there?” She repeated. No answer. Sometimes she thought about the man who stood outside their front door. No one seemed to see him either, and maybe it was because he only came around at three in the morning. She thought that maybe he was the one scratching at her window.

“What’s wrong?” A familiar voice called to her. She sighed and turned to see her father gazing through the darkness. He was trying to look at whatever she had tried to find. “Did you see something? A bird?” She just sighed again, shaking her head. “Well, whatever you thought was out there is gone. Maybe it was just a bird.” He walked over and shut the window. “I’ll close the curtains for you.” He smiled but she knew they would only open again once he left. He offered to leave the door cracked but she begged for him not to because she would hear the old woman cry. At least with the door shut it was muffled and she could try to sleep better. He gave her a kiss upon the cheek before departing to his bedroom.

She often laid in bed for hours with her hands over her ears before falling asleep. The little boy in her room would always scream at her to get out of his room, but it didn’t scare her. What scared her was his face and how rearranged it was. The back of his head was missing and she could see inside, all the brains and blood just slipping out, and his eye was gone. It was a gaping hole. His cheeks were bruised and arms were scarred. It was as if he were beaten, but by who? She never wanted to find out. She made it a point to just ignore him and not look at his horrid face. She begged her mother for an MP3 player but she saw no need for a five year old to have one. No matter how hard she tried to get one, it never worked in her favor. The boy would shake her bed and pound on the walls, but she was tired of running. She rather deal with the boy. At least he didn’t try to grab her like the woman in the hall.

Sometimes she would fall asleep in the living room because Lucy was nicer than the boy. She actually spoke to Lucy, even though she didn’t look very pleasant either. She had a cut that wrapped around her neck and when she moved her head, blood just seemed to spew out. She was able to get passed that because her arm had a gash so deep, you would think you’d be able to see through it. Lucy was about the same age as her so they would often play with toys and laugh with one another. The boy only left the room at two in the afternoon because the old woman scared him too. She would disappear around that time. He would watch the girls with envy and cause tantrums that she was always blamed for. Lucy didn’t like the boy. She would yell at him and he would yell back. She didn’t do it often because she knew it would scare her. Her and Lucy were great, unless she didn’t want to play. Then Lucy would get upset.

She wasn’t happy about the garage, because the man with the pitch fork would lick his lips every time he saw her mother. She would tug at her and say, “he’s watching.” But she would only laugh and tell her to get in the car, or house, depending on where they were headed. She would see a doctor twice a week and every week the doctor would grow more concerned. “Lucy said she died.” When asked how, she would simply shrug. “I don’t know. It hurts her very bad. I think it was the man.” When asked about the man she would shake her head in terror. “The one in the garage! He must’ve did it!” She would draw pictures of all four of them and knew that no one believed her. She knew something wasn’t right, but she was too young to comprehend.

At age six, they set out to move and she had to say goodbye to Lucy. What she wasn’t expecting was the little boy. He actually grabbed hold of her. She was too shocked to scream. “Please don’t go. I don’t want anyone else in here. Stay!” Her father waltz in and gasped as he saw the boy for the first time. “My name is Johnny.” He whispered in her ear before her father yanked her away and as he turned to run, the old woman stood in the hall. She began to moan as she always did and Johnny shouted. “She’s my grandmother but she’s crazed! She did it! She forgot her pills!” Her father, nearly fainting in terror, grabbed hold of her tighter and ran passed the old woman. Tripping on an old toy he saw Lucy.

“You’re going to have a younger brother. He’s going to make you very happy.” She waved at the girl as her father gasped for air. He ran even faster to the car and nearly threw her in. When he started it up, he could hear a male cackling. Before backing up the car, his eyes were fixed on the old man who was in the garage. He turned to his wife, who was frozen with fear, and looked back at her. She shrugged and closed her eyes.

“I just ignore them.” She stated calmly. “But Lucy was my best friend.” Satisfied that they finally believed her, she fell asleep in the car as her father drove as fast as he could away from the house. It was the best sleep she ever had.


So, my boyfriend decided to surprise me a couple weeks ago with a ball of fur. He is a Pomsky (pomeranian husky) and full of energy. He has been consuming my time and though he is sleeping in this photo, he is a hurricane.

Teething is not fun.

The biting is not fun.

Potty training is most definitely not fun.

His crying at night for bed is not fun.

However, the love he shares is perfect.

The playfulness in his eyes is heart warming.

The kisses make you forget why you were upset.

The experience is unforgettable.

He is one of a kind and loves winking at me. I swear he did it 5 times now.

He was born December 24th, 2017. My boyfriend got him at the end of March. I must say, he is growing on me and I am in love.

He is the perfect gift for my anxiety and panic attacks. I mean, just look at him!