As a child, living on the ground floor of a small building in the city, I often noticed unusual shapes in the dim light of my room. They were not distinct, just dark forms that moved silently back and forth in the hallway. I would lay in bed, wide awake, watching these figures glide past my door. They never acknowledged me, nor did they seem to have any purpose other than to drift along their path.
At first, I thought it was merely a trick of the light or a figment of my imagination. After all, I was just a kid, and the world was full of mysteries. I grew accustomed to the presence of these shadowy beings, believing them to be a normal part of my nightly routine.
However, when my family moved to a new neighborhood, everything changed. The shadows were replaced by more defined figures. I could see them clearly, and their presence felt heavy, almost suffocating. Unlike the previous shadows, these beings seemed to linger, their eyes fixated on me, sending chills down my spine.
Fear gripped me at night, and I found myself hiding under the covers, praying for morning to come. My curiosity began to overshadow my fear, and I wondered what these figures were and why they were drawn to me. I felt a mix of dread and intrigue, pushing me to seek answers to the mysteries that surrounded me.
But for now, I was just a child, left with more questions than clarity, haunted by the shapes that would not let me rest.