every night, I had a routine.


    I''d turn off the left light, then turn on the three nightlights in the back, the two in the front, and the two by my bed, and then jump into bed.


    i never strayed away from this routine.


    never.


    it might''ve been a sort of OCD disorder, but I had a reason.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    you see, my friend Annie would come to visit me.


    she would stand at the end of my bed, her empty sockets and bony teeth smiling at me.


    and I smiled back.


    her wet blonde hair hung from her hair.


    her blonde hair was just like mine.


    she wore a beautiful dress, all soaked, but still a pretty white gown.


    she liked the lights on the way I did it.


    she said she did the exact thing when she was a kid.


    she had the exact same nightlights too.


    it made her happy.


    even when my mother told me to stop talking, I would take to her.


    to make her happy.


    " Annie! quiet down, honey!"


    ok.


    but which one of me was she talking to?