by LYNAE
She was sitting in her room, enjoying a Kit Kat, when she heard them, footsteps, loud and heavy, and…they seemed to be getting closer. She takes another bite of her Kit Kat, praying that he— it, whatever it was— couldn’t hear the signature “crunch.” The footsteps stopped, she held her breath and the Kit Kat tightly in her hand as the bedroom door opened, but she didn’t see anyone or anything.
“I’m probably just anxious,” she said dismissively. However, as she held the Kit Kat in her hand parts of it began to disappear, leaving behind teethmarks. To try and beat this phantom, she began to rushing to it eat as well. Then, she hopped and the Kit Kat got stuck in her throat. There was nothing there to save her, not even the footsteps.
(There was never a phantom. Never any footsteps. Never anyone eating her Kit Kat, just temptation and fear of someone stealing her Kit Kat.)
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