One quiet night around 2 a.m., I woke up feeling thirsty. The house was silent except for the soft flicker of the television in the living room. Still half-asleep, I headed toward the kitchen for water when a small voice suddenly called out, “Daddy, can you get me a blanket?” Without thinking, I grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it onto the couch, assuming my daughter was lying there.
As I turned to return to bed, a sudden chill stopped me. My daughter was supposed to be at a sleepover that night. Startled, I rushed back to the living room—the couch was empty, the blanket untouched. Just as I tried to make sense of it, a loud voice echoed from the TV, making my heart race. Unsure if it was the movie or something else, I froze in place.
Panicked, I woke my wife and told her what had happened. She calmly reminded me that our daughter wasn’t home and that the TV had been left on. Slowly, it made sense: my exhausted mind must have confused a movie line with my daughter’s voice. Still, the uneasy feeling lingered.
Even knowing the logical explanation, the memory haunts me. The voice had sounded so clear, so real—like something or someone was there in the dark. Whether it was simply my tired mind or something more, that eerie moment remains etched in my memory.