I Think There’s Someone Under My Bed
As a kid, the idea of something hiding under my bed used to terrify me. Creaky floorboards, flickering shadows, the wind tapping at the window—it all felt like something was watching. I told myself I’d outgrow it. Monsters aren’t real, right?
But last night, something changed.
Just as I turned off the lights and settled in, I heard it—a soft rustling. Faint at first, then louder. Fabric shifting? A whisper? I froze, listening, my heart pounding. Was it just the house settling… or was someone really there?
Part of me wanted to jump up, turn on the light, and prove it was nothing. But that little-kid fear still lingered, whispering: What if it’s not nothing?
I grabbed my phone, flicked on the flashlight, and—after a deep breath—looked under the bed.
Dust. An old sock. Nothing more.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling. I slept with the light on. Because for one long moment… it felt like someone was there.
