No, the laundry room isn’t so scary anymore. But the basement sticks with me. Some days, it’s unbearable just knowing it’s below my feet, a dead stack of bricks that I can still hear breathing. That’s what I dream about. The heavy breath of it below me, bellowing my name, dragging me down. Let him in… I wake like that, trembling and cold and far too vigilant, considering the way my head feels. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” I reach out and slam my hand down on the phone alarm, accomplishing nothing but knocking it to the ground. “Oh god.”
