“Shhh, my sister’s in the cupboard. What? Can’t you hear her? Good! That means you haven’t woken her.
Poor child. So sweet, but so volatile. She gets its from our father. He always had such a temper. She doesn’t show it often. Only when she’s woken from her slumber. I would hate for you to see her in such a way.
Father was always angry though. He only showed it every now and then, but it was always bubbling under the surface. He always hated her for her innocence, and laughed at her anger. She would try to stand up to him when he woke her in his rage when I would do nothing. But it always ended with her cowering in this cupboard. At least she has some peace there now. Please. Don’t wake her!”
The disembodied voice faded away. I made my way into the dark and dusty room. It showed no sign that it had ever been a child’s room. There were no toys under the cobwebs. The only objects in the room were an old, metal bedframe, and a big wooden cupboard against the far wall.
I walked towards the cupboard and one of the rotting floorboards under me creaked loudly. Against my will I held my breath. Slowly, one of the doors to the cupboard swung open. I heard another voice. This time I could place it and it was definitely coming from the cupboard, and it was that of a very angry little girl.
“Who’s there? Why have you woken me up? WHY HAVE YOU WOKEN ME UP!”
Both doors flung open and I was pulled into the open maw of the cupboard.