The Rooming House

"There is only one rule: don’t open that door," Ms. Collins said, pointing to the closet in my boarding room. Too tired to ask why, I nodded slowly and managed a weak smile as she closed the door.

I dropped my grocery sacks, stuffed with clothes, and let my backpack slide off my back. It was all I could grab as I escaped from Dave’s place. I finally had enough. I collapsed onto the single bed in the corner and curled up. 'I’m so tired, but I’m finally free.'

Donna drifted in and out of consciousness, hearing faint scratching noises. 'Just mice,' she muttered as she slipped back into sleep. But she jerked awake when a loud, prolonged scrape echoed around the tiny room.

Through her weariness, she realized she had forgotten to turn off the ceiling light. She stared at the closet door as silence settled over the room again, waiting for Ms. Collins to come banging on her door, surely upset that the noise had woken everyone.

No one came knocking. Donna stared at the closet. 'Am I imagining things?' she wondered, watching as the door seemed to bulge in and out at various spots, the wood creaking with each swell and sink. She rubbed her eyes, rolled over and tried to sleep some more.

”Help me,’ a child’s voice called. Donna bolted upright, her eyes fixed on the closet door. Slowly, she got out of bed and quietly approached the closet, prepared to flee at any sudden movement. Leaning in. she whispers “are you hurt?”. “Yes” the child cried back.

Without hesitation, Donna whipped open the closet door, expecting to save the child. Instead, she was met with a blast of hot air that enveloped her, and an evil cackling laugh filled the room.

”I’m finally freeeeee”.