Glowing darkness

‘There’s creatures in my wardrobe.’ I say. Not people, creatures. Their skin and hair melt into one another, both made form the same cloth of glowing darkness. Only their eyes are visible, they burst out of these sentient murks. They’re dim, yellow stars.

There’s dozens of them, keeping still, staring. One has its limbs wrapped around the door, keeping it open, and holding the others back. The door is white, decorated with orange child-like cave paintings, picturing people, no, creatures.

I retreat further down my tunnel. Narrow, dark, overcrowded. Hair that isn’t mine gets in my eyes, someone’s pressed against my back. I can still see the creatures in my wardrobe. No one blinks, we silently stare at each other for hours.

Until I hear one speak, but I’m not sure who.

‘There’s creatures in my wardrobe.’