Knock, knock!

This girl never stopped. How interesting could it be to knock on a closet door for hours and hours and still find it as hilarious as the first time? It was the middle of the night, and David was tired. He wanted to sit back, read his magazines, and have his headphones raging Poison the Well and blaring his brains out. It was 11:55, almost midnight, babysitting was officially over, yet for some reason Megan just wouldn’t go to bed tonight. She just kept getting up and knocking on her closet door, giggling incessantly. This girl was going to be all kinds of CRANKY for her mother tomorrow.

Knock, knock, knock.

Oy vey.

“Megan!” David called, “Get to bed! This is your last warning!”

A great scrambling of little footfalls was heard; David popped one ear-bud out and listened for a time before convinced. After enough silence had past, he plugged back in and turned the music up, situating himself back into his nook on the couch and flipping through the latest GameInformer. However, just as the quiet was becoming customary again he heard two large bangs. Throwing his headphones from his ears he agitatedly clamored from the couch.

“Megan!” he shouted, “Stop. Banging! I mean it!”

Swiftly walking down to the end of the hallway Megan’s round angel face peeped out through the ajar door, her eyes wide.

“It wasn’t me! I swear!” she declared in defense.

“Now, Megan, I know it was you -”

“No it wasn’t! It was Mrs. Long Arms!”

“Miss Long Arms?” David inquired with a skeptical brow.

“Yes! She lives in the closet,” Megan said while looking at her feet, almost ashamedly, “She doesn’t talk, so we knock instead. She gets lonely at night, and, if I don’t knock to her, she’ll leave the closet. And I don’t really like it when she leaves the closet.”

“THAT’S why you’ve been knocking all night?”

As Megan nodded David slapped his arms to his sides helplessly, then with a smile gently picked Megan up and into his arms, carrying her to the closet door. Here he stood before it, Megan looking uneasily downward, tucking her head under his chin.

“Honey, there is no Miss Long Arms. I’m sure she’s gone to bed. Here, I’ll show you. Two knocks?”

Megan nodded, and hiking her up into his left arm he gave two firm knocks upon the closet door.

Then, to his horror, a chill that raced up his spine numbing him to the core, three firm knocks, replied back.