I gasp and jump back, standing still as death. Maybe if I stand still they will think they imagined something. I think to myself.

“Who’s there?” A deep voice calls out in the dark. The voice echoes and seems to bounce off the pitch blackness of the tunnel. No luck with that idea. Suddenly a lamp is shining in the distance, and I realize that slowly, ever so slowly, I had begun to creep backwards, retracing my steps.

Luckily the light moves in the opposite direction, but I begin to once again quicken my steps, shaking off the paralytic effect of fear.

As I continue my seemingly long trek back to my room I resolve to build up enough courage to venture down the “secret” path again.

Consumed in thought, I unknowingly reach the stairs and hit my arm. A small cry of alarm escapes my mouth, adrenaline courses through my veins. I quickly scamper up the stairs wondering if my cry was heard.

I sit on my bed contemplating all I heard and saw. I look up to see Michelle staring at me.