Wayne just barely heard his mom’s voice over the video game he was playing.
“Stay out of the snack jar,” he heard her say. “I’ll only be gone a half an hour, and I’ll be bringing supper back.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne murmured to the computer screen as he heard her car pull out of the driveway.
He soon paused the game and headed to the kitchen when the lure of the jar became too much.
“I’ll just have one,” he thought, as he ran up the stairs to the kitchen. “Mom will never know.”
The jar was always filled with cookies and mini candy bars and snack cakes. He didn’t know what to grab. Maybe he’d get one of each.
As he stuck his hand in, he looked into the side of the snack jar, which was made of heavy, bumpy glass that distorted and blurred the contents.“Aaaigh,” he yelled suddenly as he saw what was in the jar. He tried to jerk his hand out, but …
…Something had grabbed his hand. He struggled to pull his hand out, but he couldn’t break free. Instead of trying to pull his hand out, he picked up the jar, and smashed it on the counter. He saw what was grabbing his hand, “What is that???” he yelled. It was another hand, but not just any hand. It was very bony and a weird shade of green. Its fingernails were long and sharp as if they’d never been cut.
“Oh! My God! It looks like it had just been ripped off!” said Wayne.
After a few seconds, he realized that he’d ripped it off, and that it also had an owner. “Where’d that hole come from?” He was speaking of a strange hole where the cookie jar was. He’d never noticed it before, but it seems to have been there a long time. He opened the bottom cabinets and saw that there was nothing there but a little door in the back. “Hey, I think I see a light in the door!”
As he went to open the door, he heard a beastly shriek. He jerked away, but went back to opening it. He placed his hand on the doorknob. It was warm, as if someone were just touching it. He opened it, the light went off, and it was pitch black. He stared into the darkness of the doorway, and something reached out and grabbed him. He was being pulled in! “Help!” he screamed, but there was no one to help him.
“Wayne, I’m home,” said his mom, as she walked in the door. Seeing his game still paused, she figured he was in the kitchen. She looked, and he wasn’t there. She looked everywhere and couldn’t find him. She looked, and looked, and looked but still couldn’t find him, not yet aware, that she never will.Third place