Written by Pau Vizcarra

Before I came into existence, my two brothers who were then preschoolers would sleep with our parents on the same bed. Their room was minuscule yet comfortable, just enough for a growing family. Right across the bed was a brown wooden door and from its edges, light from the outside seeps through.

Sometimes, there would be a bleary silhouette by the door, perhaps from the objects near it. Since my mother was quite religious, a glow-in-the-dark rosary would lay beneath their pillows every night.

On one November evening after they had said their prayers, she asked my eldest brother if he would want a longer pajama given the chilly nature of the night and he agreed. She rose and went to the other room to search the drawers away from his line of sight. The lights had been turned off and only a small lamp with a golden bulb illuminated the room.

Within seconds, my father and second brother were already out like a candle but the shadows of the furniture remained and decorated the walls. So the unknowing boy, laid on his side facing the wall and waited there in the darkness alone. Five, ten minutes had passed and my mother had not come back.

The silence was almost too deafening until, he heard the familiar rhythm of her footsteps from a few feet away, signaling her return.

“Mommy, why are you taking so long?”

“I couldn’t find anything,” she replied.

The response, my brother noted, did not come from the other room. It was in close proximity to him, like a voice whispering just a few inches from his ear. Droplets of sweat started to form on his hands while his pulse began to increase after realizing that our mother was already asleep next to him.

Questions engulfed his mind like an unending chasm. Has it been long since she went back? Why did he not see nor hear the door open? The bed frame did not even creak and he did not sense any slight movement. As if it was the only reasonable thing left to do, he examined the dark room inch by inch. The shadows at the walls were the same but seemed awry.

That is when he noticed that at the same door where light peaks, there stood a dark faceless figure, moving its head sideways as if mimicking him.

Frightened at the sight of the anomalous guest, he shoved his face in his pillow and buried his tiny body in the contours of the bed. With his vision impaired, he only focused on the sound of the air condition and the peaceful breathing of the others until he finally fell into deep slumber.

The next morning, the rosary underneath his pillow was nowhere to be found.