For as long as I could remember, I was always raised carefully. My parents never let me out of their sight. I guess I never really thought it was strange. I am fifteen, even my friends just thought of them as overprotective people.

Every night, I was injected with a needle. There was never a day when I wasn't, not a day I couldn't remember at least. My mom told me it was a prescription from the doctor. As a young girl, I got sick a lot.

"Now Ochako, it's time for your medicine. You don't want to get sick again, do you?" My mom always repeated this, day after day. I suffered from trypanophobia, but eventually I was immune to the prickly pain; even my fear dissolved in time.

*Trypanophobia is a fear of needles

For some odd reason, i was only able to recall anything that happened up to age 8. My parents always convinced me that I was too young to remember. Every time I tried to reminisce of old birthday parties, dinners, or get-togethers my family brought up... nothing.

"Honey, you're too young to understand the things we spoke about then, anyway." My father often made a joke about it. Despite their efforts of relieving me, there was this faint, detectable uneasy feeling the wears my skin to this very day.

One day, I was nine years old. 

I was enjoying my dolls without the slightest care in the world. It was the day after Christmas, and my parents worked really hard to afford one of those DTS Mattel dolls. I remember I played with them for hours.

There was a night in particular; I hadn't bothered to remember how it went down. The memory was so unsettling that my mind couldn't handle it. The doctors say that it traumatized me so much, I took it and made it even more frightening than what it had originally been.

I was placing the seven dolls back into it's beautifully decorated case, but my favorite one was never in the spot I left it in. I figured Missy, my mixed breed, took him and went to sleep with it. She seemed to really love the feminine one of the group; Ji-min. 

I crawled myself into bed, adjusting my small figure comfortably. Since I was afraid of the dark, as any other child at that age, my parents left a night light beside my bed stand in order for me to get better sleep.

For a few hours, I was sleeping like a lamb, scrunched up in the blanket wrapping itself around me in a hug; I laid there like a butterfly in a cocoon.

There was this intense cracking noise that woke me up from my light slumber. It made me irritated. My pillow that was laying beside me was now stretched across the back of my head, reaching to clog my ears so I could eventually fall back asleep.

This procedure worked for an hour, but then I heard the same repetitive crackling. It was then I began to question what it was I was hearing. It sounded almost like a candle being split in half, or a wooden pencil no one cared to write with repeatedly clasping to the hard floor. 

Missy had a fondness of chewing things that didn't belong to her. It was unconvincing, especially since that doll was the one she loved, admittedly more than I did.

"My beloved canine friend , I hope you aren't hurting Ji-min..." Was what I wanted to say. All that I managed to get out was a stifled noise; my heart throbbed began to throb out of my chest. I attempted to move, but nothing. I couldn't reach to get an inch out of my ear, or even wiggle a toe. All I did was lie there, staring at the door in a frenzy panic.

I began feeling unnerved. The door was cracked open, light from the other side beaming through it's crevice. I felt my heart sink, 20/20 vision only watching the dog that laid in her bed fast asleep... and empty-handed. 

Then what was that unfamiliar, irking noise I had been hearing all this time. My eyes could only see what was around me as I laid on my side, glancing up at the time. If i looked for too long, it'd begin to hurt and strain them.

'I've heard of this before... mom and dad went through the same thing.' Tears inevitably streamed down my pale cheeks, strands of my mahogany hair slipping in front of my eyes, interrupting my perfect and limited vision.

My breathing notably accelerated. There was this presence surrounding me, consuming my motionless and defenseless body whole. I could feel it's hunger. What ever it was... was very thirsty, craving something... I knew I was the one that held what it wanted. 

I just wanted to sleep, scream, seal my eyelids shut. 'Ochako, this is all in your head.' 

Just be sure not to make a sound. Easy. 

I laid there in my twin sized bed, dreading every moment of that unbearable silence. Every once in a while, the being materialized over my shoulder would keep breaking the empty silence with the same audible crack. 

Every moment I spent lying there was like spending another second in hell, being tormented by the devil himself. Not that I would know about that, I was really young. My eyes dared to take a glimpse away from what was in front of me and averted over towards the digital alarm clock. It had been 12:59 A.M. Despite this, it felt as though I'd been watching my dog scratch the same spot on her ear for hours. 

Moments passed before I was finally given the ability to properly breathe without a ring of intensity surrounding it. 

Weight was lifted off my shoulders, to my relief. I was able to finally batter my long lashes and feel my fingertips. Abruptly, my body sprung up with a hasty gasp. I immediately began to pour, tears uncontrollably escaping my eyes as I ran into the arms of my mother and father in the next room. 

"Darling what's wrong?!" My mother was concerned, just as much as my father. An expression of worry wore their features, especially at how their brows simultaneously knit together to compliment their sorrowful look. 

"There was someone in my room!" I continued to whine and mewl, my father stroking my head for a reassuring, light gesture. I could recall the way both of my parents looked at each other. That silence terrified me, and only made my shouting grow more obnoxious and rowdy. 

Eventually, that night I fell asleep after several minutes of nonstop crying. The next night; however, one of the most questionable day in my life. 

It took me a while to get to sleep that night, so I allowed my dog to sleep with me. Missy was a sweetheart, able to detect whenever I feel uneasy or unhappy. Dogs habitually fall asleep faster than a human does, but her presence enough already lifted those worries from me effortlessly. My arm ached, the pain from the needle settling in was nothing new, though the effect afterwards was. 

I felt this potent drowsiness begin to hit me. My eyes were unable to keep itself open, eyelids growing heavy each second. My lashes fluttered shut. The following day, I was unable to remember what I ate before bed, or what was the last thing I said to my parents before falling into slumber. 

I'm fifteen, and the thought still sends chills down my spine. In a way, it feels like his being was still attached to me. Not physically... but maybe mentally? The thought wasn't incredibly irrational, logical enough to sit at the back of my mind all this time.

I began cleaning my closet one day, getting rid of all the stuff I didn't need. After my father left, my mom thought it would be a good idea to get rid of anything that attached us to him in the slightest.

She never did mention why he left, funny.

All she did was give me a cold-shoulder, or just not say anything at all. These days, it almost feels like she treats me like I'm hardly here.

"I still have these silly dolls?" Missy eagerly watched me as I held the leader of the group in my small hands, tail wagging in excitement.

"You wanna play, girl?~" I cooed, egging her on. There was total easiness radiating from our bodies as we continued to hype each other for a bit.

Missy unexpectedly made an accident right there. The playful mood I worked so hard to build up, vanished. My poor dog began to whimper, to my discomfort, and gradually back away.

I figured it was nothing. She reacted like that all the time after she made a leak. "Hey! Go to your bed! You can't pee here!" I scolded. It didn't take her long before her dog was escaping the room hastily.

The leader of the group was missing, along with Missy's favorite. RM and Ji-min were both missing, so I went to search for them out of sheer habit. 

I frantically scavenged the boxes, waiting for that pint of delight to course through my veins. Of course, nothing. A heavy sigh escaped my pink, parted lips and my gaze averted over to the mess on the floor, and I immediately got to work after my disappointing hunt. 

It was late at night after that. I often felt shivers through out my entire husk of skin, almost like bed bugs or fleas were finding its new home to claim on me. I didn't know what the cause of it was. Missy was a house dog, and I was certain I didn't have any of those unwanted critters taking my bed as its hostage.

 For a while, I've been experiencing these strange happenings, not to my surprise, my mom relieved me and told me not to worry. Sometimes, I think that it might've been better to leave alongside with my dad. My mother seems to neglect me so much, I question whether she feels more love for my dog than her own child. 

Recently, I could tell that my mom was stressing financially. It must be tough taking care of a teenager being a single parent. These thoughts continued to lessen my great mood as I laid there in my bed, watching the door that connected to the rest of the house. 

From the small view I managed to get a hold of, I squinted my eyes. It was dark, the halls weren't kept lit as they used to in the past. On the other side of the door was my dog, just sitting there. 

"C'mere girl. Why are you just sitting there staring at me?" I attempted to call her over, comforting both of our worries simultaneously. Missy had never been this way, not even once. This behavior was unnerving, so I decided to stand to my feet and interrupt my comfortable position on my bed. 

It was then, I felt my blood turn to ice. 

The halls were very unlighted, but somehow I managed to make out an even darker figure towering over my precious friend. 

"Missy! Come here!" I shouted. In response, my loyal friend didn't budge. Instead, she began snarling at me, growling with intimidation. 

I felt fear wrap me around its little finger. I was now in its grasp. "Mom! Please come quickly!" My legs trembled, not daring to take a step forward. My eyes lowered down to my feet, I plead for them to move.

Was I more worried for my dogs safety... or my own? 

I knew there was something wrong. My body was frozen, stuck in the same awkward spot with that terrified expression fixed on my features. There was my doll, one of them; RM. For a carved piece of plastic, it sure was moving in a humanly manner. Like it was full of life.

I gulped as I watched it sit on the stand beside me, writhing its body back and forth in a questionable manner. I then heard a chuckle. It was scratchy and masculine; then the same unforgettable cracking. It was coming from above me. 

The other doll Ji-min, finally revealed itself from it's hiding spot in front of me. Except... was it him? My teeth chattered out of fright. It was his legs, his arms, outfit... but my head was on it. My dad bought me a doll crafted and made to look exactly like it. 

My eyes widened, and my breathing grew unsteady. I was noticeably alarmed-- scared for my life. First, it started with the arm. 

Crack. 

Then the legs, and forearms. 

Crack... crack. 

I couldn't help but image myself as this helpless doll, being tormented and played with.  

The door from the room nearest to mine made a loud creak. It was my mom! She was coming to help me after I screamed! Tears joyously escaped my eyes, but my legs still didn't muster the courage to move. 

What started to worry me; however, was the lack of panic-stricken movement my mom held. This feeling expanded. I knew this was going to be it for me. I pursed my lips at the dry lump in my throat preventing me from speaking any further.

It was then I began to realize.

"Mom didn't give me my medicine today..." 

The woman I called my mother all these years left me in pain, peeking at me from the door. Her eyes held not the slightest remorse, her expression was deadpan. It looked like all the life held in them was no longer there. That woman was not my mother. 

Despite the emotionless expression she held, this woman had the audacity to grin. Her hand latched the door handle, carefully and gradually pulling the door towards her. As the door shut, all the hope I had soon vanished. My gaze caught onto a suitcase in her opposing hand, gripping it. It felt as though the door took ages to shut in front of me.

"Hello, Mr. Midnight Man."

Click.