Maybe the house is haunted?
Woke up hearing laughs.
They came from inside the house, and there was another noise — footsteps.
I got up, silently, and grabbed the old baseball bat. Outside my room, everything was sunk deep into darkness. I waited, hands firmly pressing the worn-out wood.
It could be Barbie. But then again, it could not. I was pretty sure I had seen her getting ready for her beauty sleep some hours before, which usually includes peeling off her face and putting on that disgusting mud mask, the one that smells like a graveyard. Once that’s done, Barbie will never leave her room again, not until the next morning.
Or so I hope.
I waited.
I heard the laugh again, somewhere far away. Maybe downstairs. It sounded childlike, a giggle. Actually, it sounded like Kelly’s.
Just to be sure, I went to check on her. Kelly was there, asleep in her room, her golden-blond hair sticking out of the covers, spread over the pillow like some soft silk mantle. Oh, that angelical little bastard…
One step after the other, I went back to my room. In bed, I kept holding the bat, but heard nothing more.
Strange days, these.
