In a recent social media trend, people were tricking kids into thinking they had become invisible. They’d put a sheet in front of a child and then act shocked when the child “disappeared.” Finding this prank amusing, I decided to try it on my younger brother, Tommy. I got my parents involved, explaining that we’d pretend not to see Tommy after I removed the sheet. The aim was to see his reaction.
So, I positioned Tommy on a chair, covered him with the sheet, and then started uttering gibberish as if casting a spell. As luck would have it, the lights flickered just when I was about to unveil him, adding to the drama. I glanced at my parents; they were ready, feigning surprise. When I pulled off the sheet, to our genuine shock, Tommy was actually gone.
At first, I thought he was playing along, maybe hiding behind the chair. My parents joked, “Where’s Tommy? He’s actually disappeared!” They chuckled, thinking he was hiding. But Tommy stayed hidden too long. They signaled for me to pretend to ‘bring him back,’ so I replaced the sheet and chanted some more, but when I removed it again, Tommy still wasn’t there.
Mom tried to lighten the mood, “Okay Tommy, come out now, we know you’re good at hiding,” but there was no response. I felt a pang of unease. I checked behind the chair, but he wasn’t there. We turned the living room upside down, but no Tommy. Panic setting in, we searched the entire house, Dad calling out loudly, hoping Tommy would emerge if he thought it was a joke. But he was nowhere to be found.
Mom started to cry, asking, “Where’s my son? What did you do with Tommy?” I was rooted to the spot, confused and scared.
He was right next to me, and then he wasn’t! It was evening, but Dad and I went out into the street, thinking maybe Tommy went outside when the lights went out. We asked the neighbors, but no one had seen him since he was playing outside earlier. After searching in vain, we went back home, hoping he had returned or was hiding. But he was still missing.
Mom was beside herself with worry. When we told her Tommy wasn’t outside, she became frantic, changing her clothes to go look for him herself. Dad, though skeptical, knew she wouldn’t rest until she checked herself, so he went with her, leaving me at home in case Tommy came back. But as soon as they left, the lights went out again, engulfing the house in an unsettling quiet.
I lit a candle and kept searching, calling out, “Tommy.. Tommy..” Then I heard a faint whisper, “Kevin.. Kevin..” It sounded like Tommy’s voice, but I couldn’t see him. I recited protective prayers, and the voice said again, “Kevin.” It sounded scared, “It’s me.. Tommy, where are you, Kevin? I’m really scared…” followed by crying.
I yelled, asking where he was. He whispered, “Be quiet, they’ll hear you.” I was confused and asked, “Who will hear me? Where are you?” He replied in a barely audible voice, “I’m hiding from them behind the chair.” The chair! I approached, but there was nothing there, just his shadow on the wall.
The shock made me almost drop the candle. The shadow showed Tommy sitting, hugging his knees, terrified. Trying to stay calm, I asked, “Tommy, what happened? What do you see right now?”
He described being in a strange, dark version of our house, cold and dirty, wanting mom. He cried again. I asked about the people he was hiding from. He described terrifying figures resembling our family. Mid-conversation, I heard his toy car from his room.
“Wait a second, I’ll be right back,” I told him. But as I approached his room, a chill went down my spine. The door was ajar, and I saw movement inside. Heart pounding, I inched closer. Just as I reached the door, I heard Tommy scream for help.
I ran back to the corner where he had been hiding and brought the candle closer, but he was gone. I followed the shadow into his room, where I was met with the most chilling sight.
As I entered, the door slammed shut, and an icy hand gripped my neck, choking me. I dropped the candle and started reciting prayers loudly. The shadows in the corners showed two versions of Tommy, both scared. I forced myself to act, pulling the entity towards one of the shadows. The lights suddenly came back on, and I saw Tommy in the corner, trembling. I hugged him, apologizing as he continued to cry.
The experience taught me that our world is shared with others unseen. Memories of my grandmother’s warnings echoed in my mind, “Sleep early; after midnight, the house isn’t ours.” I used to mock her, but now I understood a bit of her meaning.
However, even after the incident, I sensed something strange about Tommy. Sometimes I’d hear him talking to someone in his room, or find him sitting in the same corner. I thought it might be the trauma from the incident. We didn’t tell anyone about it, thinking it might be best for Tommy to stay with my aunt for a while, where playing with her kids might help him forget.
I took Tommy there, but I was exhausted and fell asleep. Upon waking, I opened the door to see my cousin Danny about to cover Tommy with a sheet, saying, “And now I will make Tommy disappear…” I ran towards him, shouting “No!” as the lights flickered out again.