I heard a story once before
Of black-eyed children at your door.
At first I thought it was a lie
The lonesome kids in the midnight sky.
I lay in bed and try to rest
'Till I feel uneasy in my chest.
I hear a knock on hard, firm wood
Yet silence fills the neighborhood.
I check the clock, it's 12--midnight.
My hands go numb, my face turns white.
I place my feet onto the ground.
It comes again, that knocking sound.
I make my way up to the door
And see something I can't fall for:
A boy and girl both holding hands
With dark black eyes and bright blond strands.
The tall girl asks to call her mother
And pulls in closer to her brother.
She claims they're lost and need my help.
When I deny they let out a yelp.
They ask once more and I give in.
My hairs rise up all on my skin.
Their eyes sharp black, deep in their heads
And just like that, I'm left for dead.
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Dedicated to Corie Hudspeth: Thanks for the sleepless night from pure terror. Couldn't have written this without you story telling. Stay unique my friend. Much love.