Narrow-Personal Narrative

When i was a child i wis afraid of the dark I told my mum agrain and again I heard voices in it. They weren't evil but they didn't sound familiar so they scared me. It was normal for me to wake up and hear whispers as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they were just bumps in the night and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people’s voices do. On some nights I would get so scared from these whispers that I would sleep in my mom’s bed with her. It was an added bonus that the bathroom was directly outside of her bedroom door for my late night bathroom break I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor .

I walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase,Look and to my astonishment, a red light, almost like a spotlight, was cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it.Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Christmas, i knew what this light was. It was Santa How else could he get into my house to know I was being a good boy. I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.That’s when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my father’s . It said,