There’s Nothing in the Closet

“Mom!” Kayla knew right when she yelled it, trouble would soon follow. Trouble always did, especially when her mother had started her liquid dinner around lunchtime. Kayla, 7-years-old, was in bed, covers pulled up tightly up to her nose. Her blue eyes peeked out widely, searching for the noise that caused her to utter that one dreaded word.

The shadows from her night light – yes, even 7-year-olds still used night lights – clung to her bedroom walls. Thankfully, the shadows remained still. The noises, though…

Kayla fought the urge to call out for her mother again. It only took another scratching noise for her to change her mind.

“Mom!” She heard her mother break before she felt the pounding footsteps.

“What the fuck!” If her mom thought she’d uttered that warning under her breath, she was sadly mistaken. Kayla’s mother’s feet hit the floor from the living room. The pounding got loud, as did her stumbling, the closer she got to Kayla’s room. Kayla heard her mother run into the hallway table, knocking over the knick-knacks strategically positioned. A few fell to the floor, shattering.

“Goddamn it!” Kayla heard her mom pause. She could imagine her mom, trying to bend over to pick up the broken glass, wavering, teetering and tottering, as she tried to keep her balance. It actually brought a small, sad smile to Kayla’s face.

But Kayla knew what was going to come next, especially now that her mother had knocked over what was on the table. How bad would it be? A spanking? A beating? An “accidental” broken arm? True, Kayla’s black eye wasn’t because her mother hit her, but Kayla running into the doorknob was definitely caused by her mom. Kayla had been trying to escape the belt.

Kayla knew now not to call out for her mom again. Twice was enough. She pulled her covers tight around her. Tight covers saved her on a number of occasions as her mom was unable to pull the covers away to spank Kayla. She hoped it would be this way tonight.

As Kayla lay there, waiting for the worst, she thought about her father. Oh how she missed him. She believed that her mom missed him as well. Kayla’s mom was never the same after the night the police knocked on their front door. That was two years ago and unfortunately, Kayla had been old enough at the time to understand the gravity of their appearance.

It was the first time that Kayla had heard her mom wail in such despair. Her husband - Kayla’s father - was involved in a car crash and did not survive the impact. Life was never the same. It didn’t take long for Kayla’s mom to find solace in the bottle. She went from happy-go-lucky to abusive in a matter of months. She climbed into the bottle and had not climbed out. In fact, she had not shown any desire to do so.

At first – the first time or two Kayla’s mother hit her – Kayla understood. Maybe Kayla wasn’t listening to her mother like she should have - didn’t brush her teeth in the proper amount of time, didn’t pick up her toys immediately after her mother told her to. After that though, it seemed to Kayla that her mother began to relish the idea of inflicting pain. Kayla could see it in her mother’s eyes. The hurt from Kayla’s father’s death that her mother used to show turned into a glazed look. The frown her mother used to wear began to turn upward. She wouldn’t break out into a full-on grin, but Kayla could see it there.

Kayla did everything she could to abide by her mother’s wishes and quick temper. It worked at first, but as time went on, it made no difference how fast Kayla would move. The beatings always came. Some ended in one or two slaps, some didn’t. Excuses were made at the start, then they just fell away altogether.

A scratching noise filled Kayla’s room. Well, at least she thought she heard it. It could have been from her mother fumbling around with the broken contents on the hallway floor.

“God damn it,” Kayla’s mother mumbled again. Kayla heard her mom stomping again down the hall. There was no way her mother could have cleaned up the mess, so Kayla knew she’d be in a particularly prickly mood. Oh well. Kayla wrapped herself tighter in her blankets, a human burrito.

“Do not tell me there is something in your closet!” Kayla’s mom looked wild as she pushed open the bedroom door. The hallway light behind her painted her mother in darkness. Kayla could see her mother’s wild hair silhouetted in shadow. Thankfully she couldn’t quite see her mother’s wild eyes. “I mean it, Kayla, you better not…”

“But mom…” Kayla knew she shouldn’t push her when her mom was on a bender such as the one she now rode.

“Go ahead, try me. You think going to bed tonight with no dinner was bad? How about no dinner for the next three nights?”

Kayla almost told her she’d prefer that to the whippings, but she decided not to. Then her mom did something Kayla was not expecting. She went over to Kayla’s closet and opened the door. Kayla immediately closed her eyes tight, waiting.

“Nothing! See? Nothing!”

Kayla peered out from her cocoon-like existence. She watched in the dim light as her mother began to root around in the closet. She moved clothes around, she moved shoes and the few toys inside.

“Fucking nothing!” Kayla’s mom then slid one door closed and then slid open the other. Kayla closed her eyes again. “NOTHING!!” Kayla opened her eyes just as her mother turned back toward her. Her mother’s back was in line with the open closet door. Kayla shuddered. It was like time stopped. Kayla took a deep breath. Suddenly, her mom stepped forward, breaking the spell.

“You have worn my last nerve, young lady. You can forget dinner tomorrow night,” she said as she took another couple of steps toward Kayla. “You’re lucky it’s just tomorrow. Try it again, I dare you. You’ll regret ever opening your mouth.” She now stood at the side of Kayla’s bed, standing tall and menacing. Kayla could smell the alcohol. She couldn’t see anything of the mother she once loved more than anything.

“One more peep, even one tear, and you will regret it.” Kayla’s mom paused, then, “Are we clear?” Her mom didn’t even wait. “I said, are we clear?” The threat was real. Kayla simply nodded.

“Now, get to sleep before…” That was all she got out. Kayla’s mom went to the ground and hard. Her screams were blood-curdling. This time, Kayla pulled her blankets over her head. Her mother’s screams continued, but now they were wet, like she was gurgling. To make matters worse, crunching noises joined in. It was if someone was munching on potato chips with their mouth wide open. Kayla’s mother’s screams began to die down, but not the crunching. Those got worse. After a few moments, the screaming had completely died away. Soon after, so did the crunching. Crazy enough, it then sounded like lips smacking after a delicious meal.

Kayla slowly pulled her covers down from her head.

“Thank you.” The voice was thick, guttural. It came from under her bed.

Kayla breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Finally, “You’re welcome.” Kayla waited another moment or two. “Turn off the night light before you go to sleep, please.”

Kayla turned on her side, a half-grin on her face. As she closed her eyes, she heard the scratching from under her bed as it moved toward the night light. Then it clicked off.

About the Author

Rick Gonzales is an avid reader, writer, and father of three with two amazing grandsons. He considers 1974’s Black Christmas the best horror/slasher ever made.