“There is nothing under your bed” she said, emphatically. “Now if you don’t get to sleep, we’ll both be tired and grouchy tomorrow. It’s two in the morning and the alarm is set for six, so please, go to sleep!” Being the parent of a child with a huge imagination was usually a blessing, but lately, little Johnny seemed to be plagued with scary thoughts.
The alarm sounded at six as promised and Johnny checked around his bed. Finding nothing, he still scurried over to the bathroom door and shut it quickly. Washing up, dressing, all he did quickly in order to be out of his room and down to a warm breakfast. His mom always fixed a nice filling breakfast for him to start the day on a good note.
Johnny jumped off the last two stairs as he did every morning, but didn’t hear his mother’s voice as he did every morning, pleading for him to be careful. It was sort of a joke between them. He dismissed that and sat down at the kitchen table, surprised there was no smell of food there, no sign of it, or of his mother.
He decided to run back upstairs to see if she overslept. It had happened once before, and he smiled to himself thinking he would give her a fake scolding. He saw the door was open, but she was not in bed. What he did see were claw marks on the sheets and mattress side, then a bloody trail to the window. His mother was never found. Johnny never went in either bedroom again.