Where Is My Toe?

Was the house empty? Old. Quiet. Forgotten? Every night,

the girl heard footsteps in the hallway. Slow. Dragging. Like bare feet on

cold wood. When she finally opened her door, she saw her. A woman—

tall, swollen, unnaturally pale. Her skin stretched tight,

almost glowing in the dark. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. She just stood there,

staring. The girl slammed the door and backed away, heart racing.

The footsteps returned— closer this time. The handle began to turn. A soft voice whispered

through the door— “Where… is… my… toe?” The girl’s vision went dark.