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  1. A bit of backstory: when my mother started losing her vision, my daughter and I moved in with my parents to take care of my mom and my brother, who has Down’s. I’m back in the very room I grew up in from the age of seven.

    I don’t remember the occasion, a family birthday perhaps, but my sister, her husband, and my niece and nephew had come over for the evening. Now, every time they get here, there’s a lot of excitement and several conversations going on at once. We were all chit-chatting and suddenly my nephew (he was about 4 or 5 at the time) comes to me excitedly and says, “Auntie, I had a dream about the demon in your closet last night!”

    Why did this scare me? When we moved into this house in 1987, a few nights after we’d settled in I awoke in the middle of the night to see something staring at me, grinning at me, from the top shelf in my closet. I tried to cry out but I had no voice, so I just closed my eyes and prayed for it to go away. I always thought it resembled some kind of demon. My family and I have all discussed it several times over the years (this place is legit haunted, but that’s another story) but never, ever in front of my sister’s kids. When my nephew said that to me, my sister and I looked at each other in shock. No one had ever mentioned it to him or my niece. My daughter has heard the story, but she never told the kids. I asked him, “What do you mean, the demon in my closet?”

    “The one in my dream,” he replied, in that impatient way little kids have. “I dreamed there was a demon in your closet, but I beat it up so it wouldn’t bother you anymore.”

    So yeah, that was a little spooky.

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