Text your parents. Bolt the doors. Draw the curtains. Lock Sammy in his crate.
You can’t beat a demon with an acoustic guitar solo.
“He said that Dad needed to build something in the cornfield so that we could leave.”
The night terrors when she was five left no memory with her, but I’ll admit that I cried when I didn’t know what to do when she woke up screaming.
I have no idea how I survived.
We weren’t allowed to simply turn on the lights. No lights. No sound. Nothing that might call Their attention.
I’m worried about how people are going to take this.
“The house was pretty quiet. We heard someone turn the knob on the back door and bump it hard-twice, as if trying to shove the door open.”
Is that why I had decided to kill myself?