The Boogeyman The room is dark. It’s the middle of the night, and beneath the blanket, completely hidden from the world, a five-year-old girl lies still in her bed. She’s alone—or at least, she’s supposed to be. But in her mind, something else lingers. Her fear grows slowly, too big for her small body to hold. It presses in quietly from every direction, like the air before a storm: thick, waiting, impossible to breathe. Moonlight slips through the curtains, soft and silver, turning her dolls and furniture into strange, shifting shapes. The once-familiar room seems strange. It’s a place of shadows and blurred edges. She pulls the blanket over her head and sits up, curling beneath it like a hidden creature. In the dark, the blanket becomes a tent, a shroud, a ghost. Maybe—just maybe—it will be enough to frighten him away: the Boogeyman. It starts with the fear of the unknown - that unsettling feeling when darkness hides the details, and the mind scram...
.jpg)
