There's something scarey in the basement. It's damp, and dark,
and musty, and I know it's there. It's hiding in those thick white walls,
underground, where vines creep through from the outside, and spiders and
water bugs live, and things are stacked in corners that aren't used anymore.
It's getting dusty and mildewy, and somehow gaining strength and becoming alive
I can feel it when I go down to check the fuse box. It's looking at me. I can
feel it. Sometimes I see it out of the corner of my eye, running by, just out
of sight. It's looking at me waiting for a sign of weakness, one little slip and
I know it will jump from out of the darkness.
I've turned the lights on but can't find anything. I've looked in all the corners,
and cubby holes but it's always one step ahead of me. It doesn't like me.
I don't know what I've done to it, or what it is but it definitely doesn't like me.
I have tried to find what is down there, but I never can see anything. The only thing
I ever find is just me. Me and my fear.
Maybe I'm the scariest thing in the basement.