She flopped on the bed ready to start a new dream, a new dusky night or maybe even a new adventure.  Through a window she could see her backyard flowers gently dancing in the wind as the moon was smiling down at them. She smiled back. She turned off her reading light and started her mission: her mission to sleep. She tucked herself into her warm ombre bed with the colors of purple and blue and rested her head on her white fluffy pillow. After about an hour of tossing and turning, she finally fell asleep. The only sounds in the room were her dog snoring, her fish bubbling and the sound of the cricket-concert in her backyard. The luminous moon was shining and animals were falling into a deep slumber. Everything seemed tranquil until she woke up. 

Her head shivered and she immediately stood up. Why did I wake up? she wondered. The room fell silent. I thought I heard something weird?  

Just a week ago, her grandmother had told her the story of the Boogeyman. The Boogeyman was a rural myth which she was taught several years ago, but she never believed in it until now. The Boogeyman would come at night, haunting you and hiding in your closet until you fell asleep. When you did, the Boogeyman would eat your—. That wasn’t the ending but she never wanted to hear the ending. In her head she wondered what the Boogeyman looked like. The myth said he was disguised as a human being but was actually an extraterrestrial creature, a horrible beast, a monster all combined into one. Questions and questions flew through her head, whirling in the wind of thoughts. Vortex after vortex. Where? When? Who?

She laid down that thought and fell back asleep.  Not many minutes later she stood up again. Searching the room, she found nothing but a small, misplaced puzzle piece on the ground. It was part of a bigger puzzle. Its corners were sharp and on the puzzle was a picture of a whetted tooth. Was this a sign? Her vortex of panic was slowly coming back. The rush of agitation came, feeling the blood cells slowing down in the tempestuous vortex. Minute after minute, turning into hours. She led out a great big morning yawn, fell back and closed her eyes. 

Just as she fell asleep, she woke up again. She stomped through the whole room, turning every light on, looking for any evidence. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream. She stood there shaking, dressed in only a t-shirt and some old sweatpants. Go back to bed and fall asleep, it’s just a dream.  Right before her eyelids shut, she saw the gentle red blinking of 3:48 AM on her bedside clock. It was 4 o’clock in the morning - how could she still be awake? She waited and waited, nothing appeared, no weird signs were shown, no enigmatic sound was made. She finally gave up and tried to fall asleep. 

Thump! Her eyes went as wide as an owl’s and her voice let out a horrified whimper. She immediately turned on the light but saw nothing, except for her plain old room in its plain old shape with white walls and a small desk with a book on top. 

“Hehehehehe.” She heard a horrible sound emerge from the white closet. The closet had locks and knobs and many complicated passwords, so she never dared to touch any of them and leave it alone. “How is th—.” In the middle of the sentence, a grating laugh escaped from the closet door.  The laugh was as terrifying as the worst nightmare in the world. Her hands were shaking and her brain was panicking. 

Suddenly she saw a shadow. The shadow was crooked and as dark as the night's silhouette. The shadow stood up menacingly, as if about to attack. It was as tall as a tree and its hair seemed as if it had not combed it for years. Through a little crack at the bottom she could see a tiny bit of their feet, human feet. She froze, paralyzed with fear. Her brain was oscillating from side to side like a see-saw. Her fingers were jittering and her inner self wanted to scream for help, but that was no use. 

What do I do? She looked through the window looking for help, nobody was around. The area had no people and no stores. She looked outside the window and saw nothing but old, weathered, golden brown dirt. Her family was on vacation and wouldn’t be back in a week. The nearest gas station was 30 minutes away. Should I leave the house? No use. Should I open the knob? Fantastic, the only time I’m alone the Boogeyman gets into my closet, she thought. Many thoughts were fluttering in her head like terrified birds. Why would anyone come and look for me? What will the Boogeyman do to me? She tried to stay calm and went to go and grab a book. She took her book with all her lock combos, got up and walked towards the closet. One, eight, six, two, three, five, six and so on. Every number she typed and every knob she turned made a creaking sound. I don’t want to do this, what if he hurts me and eats me like a pig? Her heartbeat was belabored and the trees outside, dancing in the wind, made a crackling sound, as if urging her to make a decision. 

She took a deep breath and her fingers locked in the last combo, turned the knob and the closet door slowly creaked open.