Since I was a kid, I’ve dreaded what might lurk under my bed. Every creak and shadow fed that fear, though I always told myself it was just imagination.
Last night, the sound came back—soft at first, then louder, like it wanted me to notice. Heart racing, I grabbed my phone and shined the light. Nothing. Just dust and an old sock.
Still, the feeling hasn’t left. Maybe some childhood fears never really go away.