text: I still think about that night. The night that keeps me awake during the late hours. The night for which, I have questioned my sanity. The night I could not prevent. Here is a piece of my journal from 18 years ago, which I wrote during therapy. I tell the story as it happened, because even then, I was unable to accept the harsh truth. It was a Wednesday night when my parents and my older sister decided to leave my brother and I by ourselves at home, as Allan and I did not enjoy dinner at our aunt's. I was 12, old enough to take care of him and myself. My brother is only six years old, so I don’t take much of what he says very seriously. 8:00pm - It was middle of winter, all of the light outside was gone. I remember everything was fine, it was just him and I playing video games. No violent ones, as my parents forbade me from playing those around him. It was my brother’s turn to play, so I took a break to go to the washroom and to get a glass of water. What I was about to see did not scare me. I did not think much of it. It might sound somewhat funny, but there was a cat in the house. We did not own a cat. It was a black cat. I thought its eyes were shut, but upon further inspection I realized that its eyes were actually missing. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary since I had seen some cats like that at our local shelter. It must have been the neighbor's cat. I snapped my fingers to get its attention, and it quickly came over to sniff my hand. I fed it some water and a piece of old baloney that my dad was supposed to throw away, but he never got to it. Such a forgetful man, it’s like we are not even related. Suddenly, I heard my brother Allan scream, which startled the cat. The noise that came out of the cat's mouth was, *morbid* . Nothing like I've heard before, I just, I cannot explain it. I ran back to my bedroom where I had left my brother. But, on the way something stopped me. As I was about to enter the bedroom, I see my brother curled up in the corner at the end of the hallway. *“Daniel, don’t open the door. Don’t open the door.”* His voice filled with fear, and tears run down his innocent face. I ask him what’s the matter and why he screamed so loudly, to which he replies *"I didn’t.”* Like I mentioned before, he’s just a child, a kid, to me just a baby still. So I figured he was making all of that up, but why? He’s never like that, he’s a good child. As I was about to tell him to come over to comfort him, I heard a loud bang come from the bedroom. The door was locked. It sounded like there was someone, or something inside that was throwing all of our stuff around. I was extremely pissed, because just that morning our mother had ordered us to clean up the room. I silently went up to my brother and told him to remain quiet, and to follow me. We quietly went into our father’s office, where there was a phone. We got in and locked the door. I grabbed the phone and dialed my mom’s cellphone. *“Yes honey, is everything okay?”* I told her somebody had broken into the house, and that we were in dad’s office and had locked the door. *“Honey, listen to me and be very quiet. Turn off the lights in the room, lock yourself and Allan in the closet and cover up with whatever you can find in there, okay? We’re on our way there and so are the cops.”* I told her I understood, and followed just as she said. In the darkness of the closet, Allan starts to hum and I tell him to be quiet, and explain the situation to him. He does not say anything else and remains quiet for a while. *“Daniel?”* Allan asked me in the most concerned voice ever *“Yes?”* I answered back expecting him to ask me something silly. *“Are you not worried about Allan?”* My whole body froze and I so badly wanted to cry. To run, to scream, to disappear. *“Are you?”* he asked once again. *“Daniel, don't you care?”* That was not my brother. I could not bring myself to look at him. I was afraid that if I did, I would not see Allan anymore. I stood up and walked out, trying my hardest not to look at him. I turned on the lights, and let myself out of the office. I stood for what seemed like an eternity in front of the door. My bedroom’s door. It was unlocked. As I opened it, I saw my beloved brother’s lifeless body on the floor. My parents and the police arrived just a few minutes later. I can still remember the sound of my mother crying to the sight of my brother. It is simply something I will never forget. I can't. No matter how many pills I take, I still wake up to the sound of her crying. The police report says that my brother was horribly bruised all over his back, arms and legs. As if he had been thrown around for hours. And his eyes... his eyes.... I don't want to write about it. You can only imagine. My parents were never the same after that, and neither was my sister...neither was I. We all grew apart. Now, at the age of 30 I still have no idea of what happened that night. Was it something not from this world? Did I hallucinate seeing Allan? Oh, and if you’re wondering about the eyeless cat, after my parents arrived I never saw it again. My parents divorced just a few years after what happened. I stayed with mom, and my sister went with our father. My father though, blames me for what happened. I was only a kid. My sister moved away to another city, and we are still in contact. She calls me up regularly to see how I'm doing. She also tells me about a reoccurring dream she's been having. It’s always the same. She tells me that she sees me locked in the closet, and that next to me is a strange, demonic looking figure. I never told anyone about what “Allan” said to me.