I’ve heard them again; the footsteps that creep past my door. They were louder than before, followed by dragging sounds. I’m so scared, I want to hide. Writing this down calms me, it always does, makes me feel that I am not alone in here. I have to be a brave little girl, just like my mother said. They can’t hurt you, all they can do is scare you…
They’re banging on the door with so much force I can see the hinges rattle, please stop!
The noises have stopped now, but I am still frightened. I just want to feel the warm touch of someone, for them to tell me I’m safe; I don’t feel safe here anymore.
I backed away from the writing scrawled haphazardly on the walls of this previously boarded-up room. A tingle raced down my spine as I contemplated the author. Ever so gently I felt something tug at my hand, before instinctively grasping at it.
I leaned over as if to listen, in a whisper I heard, *I don’t feel alone anymore.*