It Saw Me Sleep

As she descended the stairs to the basement of the eerie and crumbling house, a heavy, dark sensation washed over her, making the hair on her arms and her whole body stand on guard. The flashlight only provided so much comfort. Anywhere she glared a glimpse of light; you could see paper shredded off the walls from years of neglect. Cabinets, full of old jarring equipment, settling, collecting dust. This old residence was no longer called a home to even a mouse, as it was so spectral it was uninhabitable. Suddenly, from the other side of the basement, she could hear what sounded like a woman crying, a soft whimper, but only for a moment, and then, nothing. Only silence once again. She took a deep breath and, though everything in her body told her not to, she did it anyway. She turned her flashlight to the other side of the basement only to showcase an open bedroom door. Confused by the fact that she had heard crying in the furthest corner of the basement, she decided to investigate. She saw a glistening pile at the base of the door, a shattered mirror. In the room, there was only an old decaying bed frame, the wood so old it began to rot away, leaving behind the mystery of whoever slept there. She used the toe of her shoe to nudge through the broken glass when one of the bigger shards caught her eye. It had small handwriting on the back of the mirror that read, “It could see me in my sleep, it wanted to eat me.”