When I was a child, my parents sometimes took me to my aunt and uncle's house in Arizona for the weekend. I mostly spent my time playing with my cousins, Ray and Blake, who were about the same age as me. They lived on a small farm with wide open spaces. We ran around and basically did whatever we wanted. If we thought we could get away with it, sometimes the three of us would walk through to the next house which was about a half mile away. It had been abandoned for decades, with many scattered belongings of the people who had last lived there. It was just begging to be explored and was a gold mine for three adventurous young boys like us, especially because of the stories my cousins ​​had told me about the old haunted house. It was pretty classic fare; the man goes mad, kills his entire family with an axe, hangs himself, returns every night like an angry spirit, looking for other victims. Being so young, I allowed myself to believe it. One afternoon we decided to play hide and seek. When it was my turn to hide, I ran away to the old abandoned house. Inside the house, I noticed that there was still old furniture with white cloths on each piece. I had to juggle broken dishes and dilapidated books lying on the floor. The old floor creaked with every step. I went upstairs and found an old bedroom with a closet. Point. There were also long black dresses left over from the previous owners still hanging on the coat rack that I could hide behind. I went into the closet and found a way to close the closet door so it was almost pitch black. My only source of light was a crack of sunlight coming from a nearby window. I crouched on the floor and waited. Some time passed and there... in the middle of the paper... there were police cars lined up. I saw all the men in blue uniforms talking worryingly on the radio. My parents were there too. Everyone wanted to know where I was, but my story didn't make sense to them. Since I was still a kid at the time, they let the case go. I never dared go near that house again. Only years later, during a family dinner, Ray and Blake picked up a piece of the story. While they were looking for me, they thought they saw me from the bedroom window where I was hiding. When they got closer, they saw it wasn't me. An old man, who seemed to be carrying something on his shoulders, neither of them had noticed was smiling and waving at them, motioning for them to come upstairs. It was then that they returned home to tell their parents that I was missing, without daring to tell the truth. All this, while I was sleeping in the closet…