Every time that I walk through the living room at night, I have to tell myself, “don’t look in the corner.” I always feel something trying to silently grab my attention, but the fear overrides my curiosity. I know that if I look, I may see something that I know I don’t want to see. No matter how intriguing it may be.
The living room is dark, but this one corner is always a few shades darker. I only know this because no matter where I direct my eyes, my peripherals always focus on this one corner of the room. It lies right outside of my path from the bathroom to my bedroom. Every night after brushing my teeth, I turn off the bathroom light and run as fast as I can to the bedroom.
Do not look in the corner.
Tonight however, I allowed my curiosity to get the best of me and I looked into the corner. On my nightly trip from the bathroom to my bedroom, I tried to tell myself that there was nothing in the corner I was wrong. I was so very wrong.
I stopped dead in my tracks, just outside of my bedroom door, and what was supposed to be just a quick glance into the corner, turned out to be a long, deadly staring contest with what I could only imagine is the devil, himself. The corner was dark, but the eyes I found myself staring into were so piercing, that I couldn’t look away.
The eyes were white, but the pupils where small and as black as night. They didn’t blink. Come to think of it, neither did I. I felt petrified. No matter how hard I tried to force myself to take another step, I couldn’t. I was stuck in place, I was stuck staring into the eyes of the devil.
Finally after what felt like ages, the eyes in the corner closed, and I was able to move again. Once I regained my mobility, I darted into my bedroom, turned on the lights and lept onto my bed, grasping onto my blanket. I don’t know what it is about hiding under a blanket that makes you feel safe, but I knew there was no one else who could help me.
I stayed up all night that night, not once stepping foot off of my bed, or turning of the light. I sat up and stared at the wall in front of me. I again felt petrified, but this time I just didn’t want to move. I wanted to sit as still as I possibly could. When morning came, I braved the journey back out into the living room. As I took my first step out, my first thought; don’t look in the corner.
I was afraid to see what could be left there, waiting for me to fall victim to my curiosity again. I went the entire day not looking into the corner. I went the rest of the week not looking into the corner. Everything went back to normal. Until one night, when I was running from the bathroom to my bed, I heard a voice from behind me saying..
“Don’t look in the corner.”
Out of instinct, I looked in the corner. I didn’t see anything. I still felt uneasy, but I turned to go into my bedroom, but standing before me was something unspeakable. I recognized the eyes.