I knew they wouldn’t believe me, they never do, so I handled it on my own; big mistake. “Toby stop crying! Stop it! What happened? Did you get scared again? You big baby. You’re so chicken even your shadow would scare you.” , Natalie said making fists with her hands and moving them in half circles under her eyes. Natalie is never nice to me. When she’s not partying or working as a waitress at Jenny’s, she is always saying how cowardice I am. Mom, Joanne, used to make her stop, but Dad, Frank, told her that it was time to stop babying me. My father has been on the force for 13 years now. Mom used to always be available for emotional conversations, she’s a writer, but now she goes on book tours. Even when she’s home she’s not home. She is always busy talking to her agent or publicist. We moved here ten months ago. We live in Colorado, near the mountains, but still hoards of people everywhere. It’s where Mom’s new book is taking place in. The incident above was me crying because I thought a witch was after me. It was just some tree branches scratching my window. I’m a scaredy cat. Anyway, I went to get the mail. That’s my morning duty. The red rusty mailbox that read “Hudson” so proudly on it had been left behind in the move. Our new mailbox was plain, black, and just had our address on it. The house is big, too big. It scares me. The stones it was made from are chipping, the red shingles are falling off in drones, and the floors creek when stepped on. The wiring is old, so the lights occasionally flicker, which always scares the living daylights out of me. I am just getting used to writing 1973 on my school papers. When we moved it was still ’72. I like my new school, I feel safe there. As long as I keep to myself, hide in any nearby corner, and be as silent as a ghost, I hope I won’t get picked on any more. That’s the only positive about the move. I do like to watch the colorful leaves fall down into the moving stream in the backyard. There’s a lot of trees and mud at our new house. Mom used to care about wiping our feet at the door, but now the place is a mess and she never says a thing about it.
The scariest thing that has happened so far is the noises I hear at night. Dad says there’s nothing to worry about, it’s probably some hole in the attic walls or something. I know what I heard. One night I woke up in pitch blackness, sweat pouring down my face, my bed drenched with sweat and what I hoped wasn’t pee, my heart is a beat-beating so fast, then I hear it. It started softly at first but grew like a siren. “Yeeeeeooooowwwwllllll!”. I scream. Natalie runs in,  a worried expression across her face. Then it faded and was replaced with a grin, which turned into a chuckle, then a laugh, then a rolling-on-the-floor whooping. Dad was mad that I still had nightmares at my age. He said only babies wet there beds. I had to wash my bed sheets again. Third time this week. They didn’t hear any sound. They think I crazy. I know I heard it.
Tonight it happened again, the nightmare, the sound, wetting the bed, screaming, Natalie busting a gut over my fears, Dad mad, washing sheets again. Fourth time this week.
Tonight I didn’t wet the bed, which was a good thing since I hid under there. That sound started again and this time I tried to be brave. Mom and Dad were out on date night and Natalie was supposed to be babysitting me. She slipped me a twenty and rushed out the door in the most flashiest outfit I ever seen. I was all alone. I didn’t scream. Just cried and hid under my bed with my stuffed frog, Kermit. I was frozen there. I couldn’t wipe the tears or snot away from my face. I stayed there for a few hours. The sound didn’t stop. I had to know what was making me so scared. So I grabbed a flashlight, a coat hanger, used some tissues, a baseball bat, unused from little league practice, and Kermit. I crept slowly through the hall, to the string above the stairs in the hallway. I used the coat hanger to reach the string. I pulled with all my might. The door opened slowly, and a folded ladder swung out. I climbed the ladder into the attic. It was quite dark, so I turned on the flashlight. I was expecting something to jump out at me. My ears heard nothing but the sound of my heart thumping a million miles an hour. Then the beast pounced and I was sure it was all over. Then a pink rouge tongue licked my cheek. It was the most adorable black kitten I had ever seen. It had pink ears, green eyes, and the cutest pick nose. I sat there petting it as it purred and cuddled with me. I named it “Cuddles”. For the first time in a long time, I was’t frightened any more. I was smiling because I felt loved. I thought my troubles were over. Boy was I wrong. The next thing I know a door appears out of nowhere, lighting up in this bright green color.The cat seemed to know where it lead, because it walked right up to it and began to mew. The door suddenly open, a swirling vortex was inside. I actually wasn’t afraid. I stepped through the door. It was wonderful inside. A place where fears weren’t found. The only stipulation was that I had to stay here and couldn’t see my family. I am currently wearing a straight jacket.