I’ve always feared something lurking under my bed—the creaks and shadows never felt normal. I convinced myself monsters weren’t real as I got older.
But last night felt different.
After turning off the lights, I heard rustling beneath the bed, louder, like it wanted my attention.
My heart raced. I hesitated, afraid to look.
When I finally shone my phone’s light, there was only dust and an old sock.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling something slipped away just before I looked. I try to laugh it off, but part of me wonders: what if something really was there?
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