My hands were shaking before I even knelt down. One pale, twisted shape lay in the shadows beneath my bed, and in an instant my mind decided it was alive. Each second stretched, my chest tightening as I imagined parasites, rot, something that had been hiding inches from where I slept. My son’s face went pale when he saw it too, and that was worse. Children don’t scare easily over ordinary things. When he whispered, “What is that?” the room felt colder, smaller, like the walls were inching in. We both kept our distance, staring at it as if it might move. My brain raced through every horror it could invent, until I finally grabbed a broom, pushed the thing into the light, and realized it was only a pis… Continues…