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| rdfs:comment | - We moved into the cabin in midwinter, a couple weeks before Christmas. Looking back, I realize that the ashen footprints in the living room that my dad threw a fit over probably weren’t from the construction crew. We cleaned them, and forgot about them. That night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched in the shower, that someone was standing on the other side of the curtain. Of course, there was no one there when I pulled it back. “Fine,” I said, through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, “don’t remember any of my dreams though.” There was no fear in her voice.
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| abstract | - We moved into the cabin in midwinter, a couple weeks before Christmas. Looking back, I realize that the ashen footprints in the living room that my dad threw a fit over probably weren’t from the construction crew. We cleaned them, and forgot about them. That night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched in the shower, that someone was standing on the other side of the curtain. Of course, there was no one there when I pulled it back. I wrote it off as being exhausted from the move, and I didn’t have any more strange feelings for the next few days. But one morning that next week my 6 year old sister said something that would later make me feel like I was about to be struck by lightning. My mother had asked how we slept that night. “Fine,” I said, through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, “don’t remember any of my dreams though.” “I played with man behind the curtain.” Amelia said, “I told him that he would be in big trouble if he kept getting the rug dirty.” There was no fear in her voice. My mother just kept on reading the paper, sipping her coffee as she wrote it off as a little girl’s dream land.
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