Scary flash fiction to give you a chill.
“Please don’t leave Dad.”
Sitting in the shadowy room on the edge of my eight year old son’s bed seemed routine lately. I had never seen him so frightened. His face, warmed only by the hallway light, was a pageantry of dread: puppy dog eyes, quivering lips, and tears, all pulled at my heart strings. I sensed fear in his voice, and whatever he was afraid of in the closet seemed real to him.
I remember being a kid and the shadows that moved in my bedroom at night. I remember calling out for my parents—all too often. When no one came I froze. I felt paralyzed with fear, lying stiff in bed under my sheets. I would wish for the morning to come; wanting sunlight to warm between the slits of my window blind, driving the darkness and monsters away. I don’t recall if my terror of the dark…
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