Eyes in the Walls, chapter 2

I couldn’t shake that horrible thing from my dreams. It didn’t help that I had to go to the funeral home at least once a week. I did my best to focus on my homework, but I could never get rid of the feeling that the thing in the morgue was watching me, waiting. At night I imagined him following me home and sneaking into my house, standing at the foot of my bed in the darkness, licking his lips.

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Eyes in the Walls, Chapter 1

My mom used to joke that being a mortician was the best job in the world because all of your customers walk away satisfied. At least, they never complain – of course they never walk away. Except… maybe I saw one of them walk away.

Should I tell you the story?

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