I am never alone anymore. There is no one here in my home but yet I feel a presence. The bumps, footsteps, and shuffling sounds are always in another room or above me in the attic. Why am I am being watched, for what sinister purpose? I do not know. I heard voices today, they can’t be talking about me, I said to myself, but then I heard my name whispered softly in my ear. I bravely peeked through the door to the garret today and there was nothing amiss, yet I knew the eyes watched me from within a dark shadow in the foreboding corner. I try to rest in my bed alone now and I am weary, yet I fear sleep for I hear the voices once again; they are calling my name.
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