11:30pm.

It meant bedtime.

But oh boy, I was in no mood to go to bed.

I left my water bottle in the basement—yes, it was the floor where monsters lurked, where skeletons danced, where killer clowns hid in the shadows and were ready to pounce on each and every kid that had the nerve to step into the dark room at this sinful hour. The damp-wood-scented air and hissing boiler that sounded like a serpent made me hate it even more. Yet it was almost every mom’s dream to get rid of their child’s fears.

“Grab your water and get into bed!” Screamed Ma from upstairs.

“Coming!” I yelled back, though I surely did not want to go anywhere near the basement.

My legs refused to move, and my brain refused to stop playing flashbacks of Stephen King horror novels.

“What’s taking you so long?!” Ma’s voice rang across the house. “Hurry up, you have school in the morning!”

I reluctantly turned to stare at the open stairwell. It was a path that was consumed by a dreadful darkness. And it did look as if a spirit would shoot out from it and attack me.

I gulped.

Once, twice.

Three times the charm, I thought.

A small rumble from the washing machine came from the basement, and unhesitatingly, I stepped away from the stairs. On second thought, there’s no way I’m going down there.

But it will only take one second, a voice in my head purred.  

Run down, grab the bottle, run back. 

Should be easy, right?

Sounds simple enough. I’m ready.

My heartbeat rang in my ears—the thumps grew louder than my thudding footsteps—as I darted down the stairs at lightning speed. I didn’t even flip the lights on—I knew for sure it’d only slow me down.

Ten seconds later, I was kneeling beside the coffee table, frantically searching for my bottle. But all I managed to touch was the cold, empty glass.

God, where was it?

A faint creak sounded behind me.

I froze and managed to turn around slowly, moving my neck inch by inch.

Someone—no, something—was on the stairs.

Behind the entrance, loomed a shadow with long hair that covered the whole of its face.

It stood perfectly still.

Gulp.  

I couldn’t scream. My throat tightened. By then, my heart was pumping so fast, it felt as if it was going to fly out any second.

The lights, out of nowhere, snapped on and blinded my sight. The radiant blare forced my eyes shut before I could blink out the black spots in my vision.

It was Ma who stood there, holding my blue water bottle, and rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

“Sweetie? What are you doing down here so late at night?”

Relief washed over me as soon as I heard Ma’s voice. I opened my mouth to laugh and was about to run towards her—

But she then moved her hand from her face. Ma opened her mouth slowly, but just as she did so, her mouth grew wider and wider, and was doubling in size by the second. From her lopsided head, spiders swarmed from out of her throat, her neck, her eyes, flooding the wooden floor, and began making their way towards me. The tens and thousands of black dots climbed my legs, my arms, my throat, and eventually, the prickly feeling reached my lips. I screamed my heart out, but it was of no use.

A moment later, I woke up with a sour throat, gulping for air in bed, with Ma snoring gently next to me. I stared at her, wondering if this was another dream. Touching her gently with my trembling palm, I let out a sigh of relief. I had made it out alive.

Ma stirred, startled by my abrupt waking.

I stared questioningly into her groggy eyes.

“You thirsty?” She suddenly asked in her hoarse voice. “I think your bottle’s in the basement.”