“Who are you?” he asked finally in a small, frightened voice.

  I swallowed hard.

  What should I say? How should I answer?

  I had to think fast.

  “Who are you?” he repeated, a little louder, a little stronger.

  “Uh… you’re dreaming!” I called to him.

  He squinted harder at me.

  “Go back upstairs,” I told him. “It’s just a dream.”

  Would he believe me?

  Scanning, formatting and

  proofing by Undead.

 


 

  R. L. Stine, [Goosebumps 61] - I Live in Your Basement

 


 

 
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