The Third-Floor Bedroom
It all began when someone left the
window open.
Dear Reader,
Be warned
before reading this tale, as it may upset you, especially if you have children.
And if you have children you surely don’t want them stolen from you in the dead
of night. You still here? I thought so. I like you. You’re brave. You’re not
afraid to take on the new challenge of reading something, even if it might
upset you. Enough with the pleasantries.
You want to know something? I have a secret. A big secret.
You want to know what it is? I know you do. Anytime anybody tells you that they
have a secret you want to know what it is. You ask them politely, you beg,
plead, and threaten them. I know what it is like to not know a secret. That is
why I worked so hard to learn the one you want me to tell you. If you really
must know the secret, then read on. But it is not advised.
You know those stories that parents tell their children
about the Boogeyman? They’re all true. All the fear and nightmares about him
that have come from the children have manifested themselves into one dark
entity. A shadow without a soul, but one that can very easily cause harm to
anyone whom he wishes. Fearing him is like personally inviting to your house.
That was my mistake. This tale is about my personal encounter with him.
I had learned of the Boogeyman from my cousin, who knew the
secret, after I had I badgered him endlessly for it. But I wished I hadn’t. I
couldn’t sleep after that. I spent many
nights under my covers, either staring at the ceiling or checking my closet and
under my bed for anything suspicious. My encounter with him happened on a
summer night. It was hot as could be, and my family couldn’t afford air
conditioning. It all began when someone
left the window open.
I had somehow managed to fall asleep that night. I started
having nightmares. I was lying in my bed, but I was frozen. My arms stuck to my
sides, I couldn’t move an inch. I heard what sounded like whispers coming from
all four corners of my bedroom. Suddenly shadows started spreading from my
window to all corners of the room and up the walls. As they spread to the
ceiling, the whispers got louder and louder. They got so loud it felt as if my
eardrums would burst. It was the strangest thing; whispers that were incredibly
thunderous. I couldn’t even understand what they were saying, it was all at
once. But then, slowly a figure starting rising from the shadows. It got taller
and taller. I tried to scream, but couldn’t. The figure slowly took the shape
of a man, tall and dark, with what appeared to be dark, gray skin, dead, black
eyes, and a pointed nose. He smiled from ear-to-ear, showing me his grotesque
set of razor sharp teeth.
With the maniacal-like whispering pounding in my ear, he
bent down closer to my face, until his pointed nose almost touched mine. He
stared into my eyes with those dead eyes of his. He bent down further until he
was close to my ear. The whispering stopped all at once, and then he whispered
“This is not a dream.”
I woke up startled. There was the Boogeyman, still leaning
over me. He was real. He was a real living being. He picked me up with his
shadowy hands, taking me towards the window. But as he was about to go through
the window, the morning started to rise. I never heard from the Boogeyman
again.
So that’s my secret. Only disclose it to those you hate.
