“Scotty!” Mom’s voice danced into the room.

Scott opened his eyes. The piano music from downstairs had stopped, the scenes had faded, and his room was lighted only with the natural sunlight flowing in through the open blinds.

“Scotty, we’re going to the store. Come on down.”

Scott had heard many sounds, and he could imagine even more. But of all of them, Mom’s voice was by far the most wonderful. It rippled like a stream, bursting with sweets and kisses. It was the only voice that could paint an entire room. No matter how big of a room it was; as soon as Mom spoke, her voice splashed over the floor, up the walls, and across the ceiling.

“Coming, Mom!” Scott stood up and took a quick account of himself. Everything was in order, and he started towards the door. When he was at the exact place on the floor where the door would brush by if it closed, something caught his eye. He froze.

“Mom?” he whispered, scared and unable to make his voice work. He was staring at what appeared to be a dark spot in the corner of the room by the outlet. It wasn’t just a shadow or an area where the light wasn’t shining brightly. Somehow, a large piece of pure dark was sitting there watching him. It was something wrong, something very wrong. It didn’t belong in the room.

“Scotty, honey, hurry up!” Mom’s voice poured back in, and the strange darkness faded. Scott breathed carefully, wondering if the apparition would return. It didn’t, and the incident quickly faded to something unimportant. He hurried out of the room and down the stairs.


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