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.