Killie was on the couch, making warning noises to something in the corner. I grabbed her and ran straight to the bathroom.

“Despite the wolf attacking last night, I don’t think anything has happened in the bathroom,” I whispered. “But you let me know if my theory is wrong.”

I couldn’t go to sleep until after they finished attacking. I held out hope that maybe I could find something in this game to help me sleep through it all.

Killie remained by my side, and I had my flashlight. I held it out, frightened. It kept the impossibly dark bathroom lit.

I heard the noises, all of them muted. I kept my eyes closed. If I could just stay here, we might be safe.

The muted noises became more boisterous, but I still couldn’t understand what was said. I didn’t really want to.

Killie was against my leg, shivering. I stayed sitting on the ground, my back against the door. I knew there was a mirror here, but I pretended it didn’t exist. I refused to look into that mirror.

A child was humming. For whatever reason, all the other noises seemed to come to a standstill as I heard something that sounded a lot like skipping. The child wasn’t giggling, they were singing. I didn’t want to know what they were singing, but I couldn’t help but be familiar with that children’s rhyme.

“Ring around the Rosie,

“A pocket full of posies,

“Ashes, ashes,

“We all fall down.”

The song was so familiar to me that I was positive my mind was just filling in the lyrics. There was no way I could hear this child singing that rhyme. They were whispering it, and I was in a closed door trying to block out sound. It was just my own mind filling in the words, because it was such a familiar rhyme. And it wasn’t terrifying. Why would it be terrifying to hear a ghost child singing that song?

“Ring around the Rosie,

“A pocket full of-”

I slammed my palms over my ears, no doubt giving my brain a shake inside my skull as I did so. I closed my eyes as Killie pressed her back against my leg. She wasn’t scared, therefore I wouldn’t be scared.

My sanity took a dip. I let out a breath, then sucked another one in.

“Fine,” I whispered. “I’m fine. Completely fine.”

I didn’t have a memory orb this time. Perhaps it was a strange place for my mind to go, but I was no doubt panicking so badly that I latched on to the one thought that wouldn’t hurt my sanity. I usually had one memory orb once before they attacked, but not this time. I wonder why that was?

I didn’t realize I had my eyes open until I noticed the light from the flashlight flicker. I was thrown back to the present as I stared at my only source of light. The beam of light flickered, then slowly dimmed. I grabbed the flashlight.

“No. No, no, no.” It was light. Light in the darkness. It was like losing a floatation device in the middle of the ocean. “No, please. No.”

My mind went back to all the times I used that flashlight. Batteries wouldn’t last forever, but I also assumed the batteries would last forever, because of the game logic of this place. Kind of like how I didn’t need food until I was low on stamina. But that was stupid. I found multiple rusty batteries in the garage, all of which the dumpster prompted me with a question about whether I wanted to throw them away. There was clearly a reason for it.

The light dimmed before it flickered out. My heart pounded in my chest so loud I was sure someone could hear it. It was pitch dark in the bathroom.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“The wall is strong. The wall is strong. The wall is strong.”

My voice cracked, but I tried to hold to the hope of my words. They couldn’t hurt me. I had strengthened the wall. They weren’t coming for me.

“Ring around the Rosie,

“A pocket full of posies,

“Ashes, ashes,

“We all fall down.”

I covered my ears again. Tears dripped down my chin. My sanity took another hit as my body sank onto the grimy bathroom floor, curling into a fetal position. The child’s singing was far more muted before it disappeared.

Despite my hands stuffed over my ears, I heard the creaking of footsteps on the staircase.

I wonder what my next memory orb will be. I hoped it would be a happy memory.

The stairs groaned with the weight as someone finished walking down them.

Maybe it would be of me and Theo going on a random trip to the park.

The footsteps made dull thuds against the hardwood floor of the hallway.

Or maybe Disneyland. Some amusement park. Somewhere we’re happy. And laughing. Theo was finally talking. That would be great!

The footsteps padded into the kitchen, slow and careful. My body instinctually curled tighter.

What was my favorite ride at Disneyland? I’m sure I went before. Or maybe I went to Disneyworld. It was strange that I could think of these amusement parks so easily and yet not remember the name of my own mother.

The floor creaked next to the fridge.

It’s a Small World? Maybe my favorite ride as a child was It’s a Small Word. Constant singing, constant talking. It seemed to fit with my personality as a child. Why did I know what this obnoxious ride was like?

The footsteps moved with care, heading toward the bathroom.

I found myself quietly singing It’s a Small World. What the hell was I doing? Why was this noise leaving my mouth? Something was walking right past the bathroom, and I was making a noise, a sorry excuse for singing. The ghosts would find me.

Why did I know this song? Why did I know the lyrics? Maybe it really was my favorite ride. My voice was small and trembling. It was not pretty. My sanity took another hit as the footsteps moved past the bathroom. I remained on the floor, hugging my knees and trembling. Trying not to imagine what outside the bathroom door looked like.

I was quietly crying on the grimy floor. The longer I stayed in this game, the worse the hauntings became. So, logically, I should not stay here much longer. I needed to figure out the answers this game meant to give me. But how could I when I wasn’t getting a memory orb every time? Was that up to the alien overlords to give me one?

I didn’t know how long I was on the bathroom floor crying, but I could tell when the silence and isolation was so much that it felt like a physical presence that pressed in on me at every side.

I let out a weak breath. “The terror of the monsters are that you can’t see them,” I whispered. “Like Jaws. Or those aliens in Signs. Once you see them, they’re not as scary. I’ve seen them. I’ve seen them, therefore they’re not scary. They won’t hurt my sanity.”

A thud shook the ground. I didn’t know if I could curl into a tighter ball, but my body took the challenge.

“They’re just sludge. That’s all.”

Thud

“Sludge of teeth and hair.”

Thud

“Nothing scary about that.”

The growling shook my soul, making me feel like it was about to leave my body to escape them.

“Probably… a real life… reason…”

Thud

“Some… coma…medication…medical… medical reason…”

Crack.

I didn’t realize my hands were over my ears until I heard it bellow. Because it still pierced my soul, despite keeping my ears covered.

I stopped talking, curling tighter. The complete darkness did not help. My sanity was below twenty-five percent. They had to be leaving soon. I couldn’t take much more of this. I was going crazy.

Another crack, with another bellow that dropped my sanity to a dangerous sliver. I then heard the thuds as they moved away.

I uncovered my ears, lying on the bathroom floor. I couldn’t speak. I could hardly open my eyes. I clung to my sliver of sanity, which I could only guess was less than five percent. If I opened the door and saw those bloody footprints on the ground, I was going to lose that last sliver. There was a chance they were gone, but there was also a chance they weren’t.

“Lead me to bed, Killie,” I whispered.

I got up, hoping my slippers would keep me from feeling anything on the ground. I kept Killie in my arms as I moved with closed eyes. It was still dark, but I didn’t want to risk anything.

I moved through the door, guessing where I was in the kitchen. I bonked into the cherry wood table, so I used that as a guide as I moved through the kitchen, then into the living room. I kept my eyes closed, Killie in my arms. My entire being was trembling. My mind slowly came to terms with the fact that this would happen every single time they attacked. If I hadn’t upgraded my stamina and sanity, I would be… whatever it is that would happen when my sanity disappeared.

Killie was calm in my arms, purring as I made my way blindly to the bedroom. I used my shoulder to ease open the door, then dropped into bed, still holding Killie.

“Stay with me. Please. Don’t leave me. I’m not okay,” I whispered to Killie.

She purred in my arms. I don’t think I actually ordered the game to put me to sleep. I think I did it all by myself, listening to my cat purring as I lost consciousness.