Disclaimer: I do not own The Boy (2016) or any of it's characters.
It Crept Through the Halls
It was that damn giggling again.
Greta squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the pillow against her head in a desperate attempt to shut out the hair-raising sound. This was the tenth night in a row the noises had kept her up. Each time, she swore up and down that she could hear a child running about the house. She could feel the vibrations from his feet in the floor boards. But every time she went to investigate… nothing. The second she stepped foot out her door the house would grow instantly still. Would grow quiet. Too quiet.
"Brahms" was always exactly where she'd left him, lying in his room. His porcelain eyes would stare vacantly toward the far wall, never changing, always watching. His stillness was starting to unnerve her. She kept finding herself almost hoping to catch him in the act. To see him move. It was a daunting thought, but surely it'd be better than all this uncertainty she was feeling. If it wasn't Brahms…
There were no children running through the house. She'd checked, several times.
Greta wasn't sure she could handle much more of this. This constant feeling of being watched, of being laughed at when there was no one there to laugh in the first place. She was going to lose her mind. Unless… maybe that's what this was. Perhaps… she'd already lost it. Even if that was the case, it wasn't like she was really missing much in the sleep department. The nightmares plaguing her lately had proven that they could be much, much worse. A loud bang rang out, just beyond her bedroom door and Greta flinched bodily at the sound. The myriad of snickering that followed was straight from hell. "Just a few more hours… Just a few more…" she murmured to herself and tried to settle in.
It looked like it was going to be another long night.
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