Minuscule, membranous and chilling.
That voice crawled from the jagged shadows that leaked from my cousin’s closet.
“Help me…” It pleaded. My fear overwhelmed the physics of movement. To this day I would swear the door began to open.
My idiot cousin slept soundly but sound had been siphoned from me, save my heartbeat that I prayed would awaken my aunt or someone with the ability to take away this unreality.
I don’t remember falling asleep. As soon as I stumbled from my slumber, all alone as everyone was already feeding on the morning, I borrowed courage from the light.
When I asked my cousin he said I must have been dreaming, but my aunt looked at me knowingly. I wasn’t the only witness.
We never spoke of it, she and I. Just waited unconsciously to see if there would be another. There never was.
Ghost story, a true one.