A broken, dejected James mopes through the door to his home. His mother looks to him and motions for him to come to the table. As he slides himself out of his sneakers, his eyes never leave the floor. His father takes a note of this and decides to bring it up. “How did the cape go at school? We heard some stories and were wondering if they were true!” James dragged his feet past as his father watched him slowly making his way to the table. “It was okay.” James slid into a chair and stared straight ahead, unblinking and deep in thought. His mother and father exchanged some glances but decided not to press it.
The food was extremely delicious, and James expected no less. He stared at his plate and fiddled with his veggies until finally his mother decided she couldn’t take it any more. “James honey, what’s wrong?” Without looking up from the peas skewered on his fork he muttered words almost inaudible to anyone. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m okay.” His father stopped eating and stared at his tiny offspring. “Son, the stories we heard from school sounded like you had a mostly good day, but here we are and you seem entirely somewhere else.” James shifted his eyes in his father’s direction for only a moment before rolling them quickly back to his fork. His father shook his head with dissatisfaction and withdrew from the table, taking all cleared plates with him. As he stood at the sink rinsing them off, his wife joined him. “What do we do Will?” She asked with the genuine concern of a mother for her first-born. James’ father met her eyes with his. “I’m not sure. We should probably just leave him alone for tonight.” As he finished up cleaning he turned back to her with a question in his eyes and suddenly on his lips. “Did you want to put him to bed early Emily?” She nodded, “It has been a long day for him.”
As she carried James up the stairs, Emily was beginning to feel like there was nothing either of them could do. As she laid him into bed, she whispered softly in his ear about getting up early for a bath. James hated bathing, but more than that he hated getting up early. As she pulled his blankets up James scowled at her. “I don’t want to get up early. It’s not fair!” He crossed his arms and stared at her defiantly. She crossed her arms and stared back equally as defiant. “Well young man, perhaps you should have been more sociable tonight. Instead you’ve been cranky. Good night, sleep tight.” She kissed his forehead and began to leave the room. Just as she turned out the lights and the remaining rays leaked in from the hallway, James could make out two glowing red dots in his closet. Before he could call for her, his mother had left him in the room… the room with the Phantom in the Closet.
He had told his parents about the phantom before and they never believed him, as parents never do. He had woken up many times to see the Phantom sneaking away from his bed, or peering at him from the shadows or even from the closet. After confronting a bully, what was a Phantom going to do that the bully couldn’t? As he pretended to sleep, James laid still with one eye slightly open. As the glowing eyes emerged from the closet, he watched as they slid within the confines of the shadows, up walls and across the ceiling. Finally James opened his eyes and waited for them to adjust. He could only see the two extremely confused looking red eyes staring back at him, as if that’s all the Phantom was, just a pair of eyes. He decided to break the ice. “Hi, I am James. What or who are you?” After a few minutes of silence, James noticed the eyes had yet to blink. “Are you okay?” As he moved from the bed he heard the closet door slam, upon his inspection of the ceiling, the beast was gone. So much for that idea, but then again, he probably isn’t used to people talking to him. As he turned around to get into bed, he noticed a rather large lump already under his sheets, with two red eyes glowing through them. It had been a trap, and now James was separated from his bed.