Let Him In by William Friend EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:William Friend
- Language: English
- Genre:Ghost Thrillers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Alfie
This morning, I heard the name Black Mamba for the first time, and it made
me remember some dreams. Not mine; dreams that my daughters had.
Visions that splintered their sleep.
It began nine months after the accident. Every night, during the devil’s
hour, I’d wake to find the twins standing motionless at the foot of my bed,
their faces veiled by the dark.
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Daddy, there’s a man in our room.
Those words became familiar, like a choral refrain, and could stir my
body while my mind, or the better part of it, remained asleep. I’d shift
beneath the cold, stiff sheets, flatten my nose against the pillow, and sigh.
No there isn’t, I’d say. But my arm, half- dead with sleep, would lift the
duvet all the same and let the girls clamber in to nestle in the cleft where
their mum had once slept.
Naturally, the first night was different. On the first night, the twins’ mere
presence at my bedside, sudden and unexpected, sent a shot of adrenaline
through me.
“Daddy, there’s a man in our room.”
The sentence jerked me upright, like the tug of a noose and the floor
falling through beneath my feet.
“A man?” I said.
“A man.”
And the girls stood so still, and their voices were so flat and toneless and
dead that I could scarcely breathe. Yet somehow I gathered the strength to
tiptoe out of my room and toward theirs.
“Stay here,” I whispered, but they wouldn’t let me leave them, so we
shuffled together down the staircase, their tiny hands squeezing mine as we
listened. And it was only the silence— the pure, solid hush of night— that
began, finally, to calm me. Blood flowed back to my face and neck, and I
started to feel like an adult again. Like a father.
“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”
“It wasn’t a dream. It was real. He was there.”
Into their room we went, and the snap of the electric light instantly
illuminated everything, revealing nothing, no one. I flung open the
wardrobe doors, lifted the duvet, with its chalk- blue swirls, to search
beneath their bed. Unvacuumed carpet and misplaced toys— but no one
there.
“What did he look like?”
“He…he…” Their voices quivered as feeling returned, and they fumbled
for their words. “It was dark. We couldn’t see.”
Down another flight to the ground floor, where we flooded each room
with reassuring light. We checked everything: windows, doors, locks.
Nothing was open, nothing was smashed. Bewildered, the girls turned to
each other, half in search of support, half in suspicion. We retraced our
steps. “Where did you see him?” I asked. “Show me.” And just like that, all
synchrony in their words and movements fell apart.
“He was out here,” Sylvie said, her finger charting vaguely across the
landing. “We saw him through the doorway.”
But Cassia jerked her head and cried, “No, no, he came into our room!”
“But the door was closed.”
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