The demon in grandma’s story is real.
I have known since I was little. It all
started the night she told me the
bedtime story. I was five. It was a
ritual then for grandma to read me
bedtime stories before going to bed.
I always looked forward to them as
they were always less scary and fun-
filled stories. But that night was
different.
I noticed she was not in the mood to
tell a story. But she told me one
anyway so I would not feel bad. The
story was more of a warning.
“Be careful, my daughter,” she said
after the story. Grandma left the next
day. I didn’t know the reason.
Abra was the name of the character
in grandma’s story. In her story, Abra
is a demon that sees only at night.
She goes after a person each night,
plucks out the eyes and puts it in her
own to see for that night. I lost my
eyes to Abra the night she visited. It
took me minutes to recognize Abra
and the story grandma had told me. I
wanted to scream but I could not. I
recovered my eyes the next morning.
I have been sharing my eyes with
Abra since that night. I see during the
day but do not at night. My parents
were oblivious of these events. It was
not because I could not tell them, but
each night she visits, my strength fails
and I would not scream or tell
anyone.
Yesterday, I found the letter grandma
had written before she left. My heart
raced while I read it. I was shocked.
Grandma had encountered Abra. She
told me the story to be free from
Abra. In her letter, that was the only
thing to do to be free from the
demon.
“You have to tell this story to
someone to be free from Abra.
Anyone that hears this story becomes
Abra’s next prey,” she wrote.
The letter fell off my hand. I needed to
be free. I quickly opened my phone
and wrote everything.
This is you reading the story. Yes, you.
You’re the next prey. I’m so sorry.
