Mr. Nobody

Do you remember when you were a kid and you were terrified of the monster in your closet?  You would cry to your parents, maybe even beg them for an extra hour before bedtime just so you could avoid being alone in the dark with the monster. 

They would tell you not to worry – monsters aren’t real.  They would tuck you into bed, maybe read a bedtime story, and just before they turned off the lights, you would have them check for that monster.  From the safety of your bedsheets you would watch them cross the room and open the closet door.  They would push your clothes aside and show you that the closet was empty.

Nobody’s there.

When your dog started to bark in the middle of the night – his teeth bearing, his fur bristled, and his eyes staring unmoving outside into the back yard.   You get up, pat him on the back and tell him not to worry.

Nobody’s there.

You’re home alone – your parents have gone out – and you hear a knock on the door.  You get up, cross the house, and answer the door to an empty porch.

Nobody’s there.

You hear someone call your name – you hear the cupboard door creak closed – you hear footsteps moving around upstairs and thumps and bumps in the house at night.  But it’s okay, the house is just settling.

Nobody’s there.

You wake up in the middle of the night for no reason at all.  Your hair stands on end and your skin prickles.  In the darkness you can just barely make up the shape of a man standing at the foot of your bed.  You hear his raspy breathing and you feel a chill in the air.  He starts getting close – he’s always been getting closer – from the moment you first saw him in your closet.

Nobody’s there.

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