— Originally published July 6, 2005
I heard something in the house last Monday night, but I chose to ignore it. Of course, as a child, my imagination would sometimes run wild. I remember nighttime creaks and groans striking my chest the way a thrill ride does, that awful drop. Get that feeling, when your heart beats like a hummingbird, and reasoning flutters away. Those strange creaks are suddenly solid proof that a ghost or wild-haired madman is waiting on the other side of the living room door.
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