Good evening, I'm Alabaster Catz. And it's time for another tale to tell in the dark. Welcome to the show. I'm particularly glad to have you with us tonight because it's the first episode of the Alabaster Catz podcast. More importantly, it's the beginning of what I'm hoping to be a long series of midnight visitations. That said, I think it's fair warning for you to know exactly what you're getting yourself into. Here we celebrate stories of the cute and the macabre. The creepy and the quaint, the sad and the strange. You won't find things like joy or happiness here. We aim to exume the more subtle emotions. A prickling of your skin, a ping in your chest and maybe an intake of breath. So grab a drink, dim the lights and get comfortable. The show's about to begin. Tonight tale is a little piece written by yours truly. It's a story about a girl named Abigail, and of how nobody listened. It was one year ago on a night like tonight during an overcast sky that smothered the moon and a chill that tickled your skin like the fingers of an unseen presence. A young girl had just returned home from a night of trick or treating. Like most nights, her bedtime routine was the same. She would change her clothes, brush her teeth and kiss her parents Good night. But on this night, when the lights were out, and the door was closed, something terrible happened. Her parents never heard a sound, not a scream, not of cry, not even a whimper. When they left her for the night, she was wrapped in love and smothered with kisses. But when they returned the next morning she was gone. Disappeared from her bed with little more than a silhouette pressed into her sheets. Her name was Abigail, and I liked her. I had just moved here from the city. And needless to say I didn't have any friends. This was normal for me though, mainly because I moved around a lot and I rarely ever left the house. However, when I met Abigail, I knew she was special. Unlike the other girls who were older and more cynical, she was innocent. She believed in things like fairies, crossing her fingers and not stepping on cracks. Her parents called her highly imaginative, which was something I found offensive because I believed in these things too. I remember when I first saw her, she was looking out her window at the morning clouds. I remember because I was up early that day, and I'm not a morning person. I hated mornings. The sun was too bright. The streets were too loud, and people were always rushing from one place to the next. I prefered the evening. The cool air from an open window as you gaze across a world of slumbering rooftops and motionless lights. But when I saw Abigail staring at the clouds, I was thankful I woke up early that day. The next time I saw her was at school. We were in the same class only she sat in front and I sat in the back. She was kind to everyone around her. Kind in the way that made you worry whether or not someone was going to take advantage of her. I however, didn't talk to her. I was incredibly shy and preferred to remain unseen. I was okay with that though. It's not like I had much to say anyway. But as the days rolled into weeks, I grew more comfortable around Abigail and decided to join the rest of the class in vying for her attention. Then I tried making subtle noises like tapping my foot on the floor or drumming my fingers on the wall. That didn't work either because she never bothered to turn around. One time, I even opened the door for her but she left the room in such a hurry, I don't think she noticed. Eventually I mustered up enough courage to tap her on the shoulder and introduce myself. Unfortunately, this only succeeded and startling her because she jumped out of her chair and let out a yelp. Mortified, all I could say was her name. Luckily, that's all it took because after that, she said hello. From that day forward. Abigail spoke to me more frequently. Every day after school when the bell rang, she'd run home to meet me at her house. She seemed to take an interest in me and asked a lot of questions. Who are you? Where are you from? How did you get here? The usual getting to know you stuff. Unfortunately, I wasn't used to being asked so many questions, so I avoided answering them. She didn't take offense though. She simply started asking new questions, particularly ones that I didn't have the answers to. Questions like, how long does it take before we're forgotten? And when we fall asleep, where do we go? I didn't answer these either. But Abigail didn't seem to mind. She just liked the talk and I liked to listen. As the weeks passed, I began to grow more comfortable with Abigail. I started pulling little pranks, like tugging her hair and hiding her glasses. Most of the time, she just ignored it. But sometimes she would get a little upset and tell me to go away. That's when I knew I had to tone it down a bit before doing it again. Still, she maintained an interest in me and as always circled back to the getting to know you questions, which of course, I never answered. Months later, I started to feel much more drawn to her. But tapping noises and pranks weren't getting her attention anymore. Something in her had changed. She'd become dismissive and actively avoided me. When I tried to talk to her about it, she yelled and told me to leave her alone. That's when I got angry and grabbed her arm. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs, and I let go. Later that night, I heard her pleading with her parents. She kept asking if she could sleep in their room because she was afraid of the monster in hers. She told them about the books appearing on her desk, and the footsteps on the floor. She told them about something tugging on her hair, and her glasses disappearing. She even told them that sometimes her door opens and a voice calls her name. Unfortunately, they didn't believe her. They told her that it was just her imagination, and that there's no such thing as monsters. They even went so far as to prove it by flipping on the lights and showing her that her room was empty. Abigail didn't buy it, though. So as a compromise, she made her parents promise to sit next to her until she fell asleep. And so they did for the last time. A year has gone by since that terrible night and there isn't a day that passes that I don't think about Abigail. But like all things, people eventually forget and the world moves on. Now there's a new family that lives in the house and they too, have a young girl who believes in things like fairies, crossing her fingers and not stepping on cracks. I heard her the other night telling her parents about the footsteps outside her room, and the scratching in the walls. And just like before, they tell her that there's no such thing as monsters. They check under the bed and inside the closet to show her that nothing is there. They lift up curtains and look behind doors to prove that no one is here. Despite this, she refuses to believe them. But it doesn't stop them from putting out the lights. Now, she's all alone in the dark. And when she pulls the covers over her head, that's when I smile. They call me names like nothing, no one and nobody. They say that I don't exist, even though their children's swear I do. Nothing. No one. Nobody. That's what they call me. And when they say nobody listens to children they're right. So tonight, when the moon is smothered by an overcast sky, and a chill tickles against your skin. I'll crawl out from under her bed and pay her a visit. Her name is Billie and I like her. That concludes our show for the evening. Thank you for joining us, and I hope you'll come visit us again. Next time. We'll wander into the world of the cute and the macabre and find out what dark lessons we can learn from a fable. If you'd like to submit your own tale for the show, or perhaps commune with yours truly, I've taken up permanent residence at alabastercatz.com. Also, if you enjoyed your evening, please subscribe to the Alabaster Catz podcast for a little more borrowed time. Once again, thank you for joining us. I'm Alabaster Catz and remember, the best stories are the ones we tell in the dark.