When my son was younger, he always hated going to bed. He continuously fought me every night begging me not to leave him in there alone. I asked him what was wrong one night, but he didn’t respond and just sat there on his bed glaring at the corner of the room. I asked him what he was staring at and he didn’t reply. So I laid him down, covered him up, and left the room.
At about 3:00 in the morning, I was awoken by his screams. I ran down to his room and saw him hanging by a shoe string from the dresser. I run over to him and let him down. He was out of breath majorly but not dead, for I had gotten to him soon enough so there was no harm done to the lungs. I asked who did this to him and with a raspy voice and a point of a finger to the corner behind me, he managed to speak these few words
“The man in the corner.”
