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"Mommy?"

Her little voice was hopeful and intent. Rebecca Walker gazed down at her daughter, Millie, as she tucked her into bed.

"What, honey?"

"The weather report said that a storm was coming."

Rebecca couldn't help but muffle a laugh. Millie was only five, but sometimes, just sometimes, she sounded so much older. She raised an amused eyebrow. "When did you start watching the weather reports?"

Millie didn't have a response for that, nor did Rebecca really intend to get one. Instead, she pulled the covers snugly over her little girl and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.

"It's way past your bedtime, Millie. You really need to go to sleep now."

"But I'm scared."

"Millie, it's just a little storm. You know I've got to work tomorrow and I need to get some sleep. You do, too."

"But – "

Rebecca interrupted, putting a gentle, yet firm, finger to her daughter's little lips. "If you go to sleep, the storm will be gone in the morning and everything will be okay. Okay?"

With that, Rebecca got up to leave, turning off the light in the room. Before she made it out the door, however, Millie brought her back.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, honey?" she asked, growing exasperated.

"Is the Bogeyman real?"

Rebecca hadn't been expecting that one. She had never heard Millie say anything about a "bogeyman". In fact, she was surprised to learn that her daughter even knew what a "bogeyman" was.

"Why do you ask that?"

"T.J. said he's real. He said that he comes for little boys and girls who are bad."

T.J. Rebecca frowned. She would have to have a talk with him later.

"Is that why you don't want to go to sleep?"

Millie nodded her head, admitting the painful truth.

"Your brother's just trying to scare you, honey."

"So there's no such thing as the Bogeyman?"

Rebecca smiled, reassuring her. "No."

Millie accepted that and smiled back, revealing a missing tooth. It was obvious that the matter had been bothering her a great deal, and now that her all-knowing mother had clarified the safety of the situation, she felt secure going to sleep.

"Good night, Mommy."

" ‘Night."

Rebecca smiled and gave a little wave as she made her exit, closing the door behind her. Alone in the dark of night, Millie lay there in her bed, where she could watch the night sky through her grand bedroom window. It encompassed the majority of a whole wall, her window. From here, Millie could see the stars, the moon, everything. It was peaceful, and the music of the twinkling nighttime lights often lulled her into her deepest of sleeps.

Now, as she had done a million times before, Millie turned her head to see the heavens. However, on this night, there were no dots of light looking down on her. She made a small frown. Curious. A quick blast of lightning cut the darkness and split the sky in two. Millie jumped, startled. Three beats later, the thunder followed. It ran a chill all the way down Millie's tiny frame.

However, it wasn't until after the thunder subsided that she could hear the scratching.

It didn't really register, at first. She only thought it more of the thunder. But the thunder was gone. Only the scratching remained. Scratching. She strained her small ears, trying to determine where it was coming from. Mommy had done such a good job of tucking her in that she wouldn't dare get up. Of course, her determined disinterest in leaving her post had absolutely nothing to do with the fear of whatever was lurking just outside the safety of her bed.

Scratching.

It was louder, now. Closer, it seemed. Millie felt like it was right on top of her. Her widened eyes darted around the room, and she could feel herself pulling the covers tighter around her chin. She was beginning to feel a bit silly because of all of this.

Scratching.

On second thought, her fears were not unfounded. A storm was coming and a little girl ought to prepare herself for what might come with it. Her chubby little fingers braved to venture from beneath her bed cover and roamed under the mattress long enough to find what she was looking for.

Her pony flashlight.

On some nights, this flashlight had been her greatest companion, giving her the ability to stay up after hours to indulge herself in her favorite books. Yes, this pony flashlight had power. And, if there were something in the darkness trying to get to her, the mighty light of two C-sized batteries would defend her.

With the flashlight firmly in her grasp, she powered it to life and shone it around the room. Her fear was beginning to subside, only to be replaced by an insatiable curiosity. The scratching came again. Millie quickly aimed the light in the corresponding direction.

It was coming from the window.

With the pony flashlight, ever ready for battle, backing her, little Millie Walker got out of bed and ventured for the grand-sized window. The light from the flashlight remained several feet ahead of her, but still it gave no indication as to the source of the sound. Millie stopped, waiting to hear more of the scratching before she went any further. Yet, the scratching never came. She smiled, enjoying the newfound silence, and moved over to the window. She laid her flashlight at her side and put her tiny hands on the glass, seeing them meet their reflection. Gazing up at the sky, she saw a large branch from a twisted tree blowing in the wind of the approaching storm.

She giggled to herself. To think she was actually afraid of a silly old tree. The breeze was picking up outside. The storm was coming, just like the man with the toupee said on television. The glass felt colder and colder to Millie's touch. Even the warmth of her skin seemed to have little effect on it. Then, the lightning flashed once more, illuminating the sky and her bedroom.

That's when she realized those weren't her hands on the other side of the glass. They were a man's hands!