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You told your parents "Good night," and that you were going upstairs to study, and you were... for about five minutes. Your nap was only supposed to last that long as well, but your eyes open and drearily drift towards your clock. Ten twenty-five. Your parents have already gone to bed, as made apparent by the snoring coming from behind their slightly cracked door. Hunger grips you, and raiding the fridge becomes your top priority. With your LED key-chain flashlight, you embark on a stealthy food-run. Luckily your Dad finished carpeting the stairs, so you make little sound as your creep to the bottom, but something else isn't so quiet.

From the kitchen, it seems, you hear a clumsy clomp, the sound of a high heel, but it seems so much lighter; as if not a full person's body weight had been applied to the step. Your mom definitely doesn't wear high heels any time other than formal events, making your quiet mission to the kitchen at the bottom of the pitch dark stairs daunting beyond reason, but you write it off as post-nap fatigue and soldier on. However, it can't be helped that your brain is otherwise perfectly barred from answers.

At the bottom of the stairs, your LED casts eerie shadows and plays off of reflective surfaces. As you near the kitchen, you hear a knock, like one you might hear after accidentally banging your knee on the side of a cabinet. Obviously this gets to you, so you stop just short of the doorway and peek through.

Whatever it is, it's on its hands and knees, wearing your mothers high heels on its hands. Long, matted hair hangs greasily from its head, and it seems to just be shuffling around aimlessly. Yes, it is human, but you still feel your heart drop into your intestines when this thing starts to sob loudly. The type of sobbing one experiences when they hear of a loss in the immediate family, a hoarse sob with desperate, gasping inhalations between each weeping moan. Practically bawling, it turns its head, or more accurately, your mother turns her head and gazes up at you.