2:32

It's 2:32 and your son is screaming from the next room;

“Help me Daddy! I’m frightened.”

You rush down the hallway, to see your son silhouetted against the nightlight, sitting up in bed his face streaked with tears.

You pick him up- “What’s wrong, little man?” Still crying, he replies.

“I had a bad dream, daddy.”

“Tell me all about it.”

You reply, “I can’t, in my dream, when I told you about it the white monster on the roof ate you.”

Then you look up.

And a skeleton poped up

Deletion log refugee

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