3

I took a step to the corner and peered over. The light seemed to be coming from the hallway past the stairs.

It is weird because we did not have a light by the front door. I had no clue what the source of this light was. I took another step through the kitchen.

I thought that I should just call out to him, but something came over me. I felt, I felt afraid. Something deep down made me nervous. I took a few more steps. I did not take my eye off the hallway. The light had flickered, slightly on and off the white painted walls. I arrived to the corner of the hallway.

I wanted to peer over and see Uncle just checking on something. I wanted to hope I was seeing things and my imagination was just running wild. That is when I rammed my leg into the kitchen table.

I was lucky it was not my left leg. It did not hurt, it startled me more than anything. I at once glued my eyes to the light. The next ten seconds felt like hours. No movement. I rushed into the hallway since I reconned my cover was already blown. To my surprise all that sat was a candle on the hallway floor. It glistened on the pale cedar floor as some wax made its way to the metal base.

It flickered small light off the white painted walls and the washing machine. The front door remained closed, with the curtain swaying. Why was the curtain swaying? There was no fan in here and certainly no air flow.

Had Uncle lit the candle and then bumped into the door? Why did he light a candle in the first place?

Confusion and fatigue had filled my head. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

I picked up the candle and blew it out. I at once regretted it as the room fell into darkness. The base was warm and some of the wax had hit my finger, solidifying at once. I set it on top of the washing machine and eyed the stairs.

The house had gone dark again so I carefully walked up the carpeted stairs. My leg had still hurt but my mind had been rushing with nervousness. It was strange, why Uncle lit a candle then went back to bed. I then stopped halfway up the stairs.

Did Uncle even go back to his room?

I turned around and headed back down the stairs, quietly like I had not already made enough noise.

The carpet between my toes was warm. My whole body was warm from waking up in sweat and the lack of airflow in the house. I peered over to the other hallway to see Uncle's door was closed. There was no light peering from under the wooden door. It was completely silent in the house.

My brain was making noises to fill the quiet again, so I retreated upstairs. I laid in bed until 6:00, nothing productive was done. I did not get any more sleep that night.

Uncle was still in his room the next morning.