The Black-Eyed Boy

It was late one night – probably around turning midnight – when I heard a knock on my door. It was Christmas Eve and I had hot cocoa and the fireplace to warm me up so I was reluctant to leave. Bringing an urge to answer the door, I got up. There was a bad blizzard the night before so I wondered who would want to be out in this weather. I live in a rural area, and guessed a car had broken down and wondered if I could help them. I opened the door. A young boy with a black hoodie on was at the door. He was probably eight or ten years old.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Do you need any help?”

“Can you please let me in? I need to come in and use a phone,” was the boy’s response.

“Did your parent’s car break down? If so I have jumper cables to help. You can’t use my phone as it is down because of the storm,” I said, trying to be polite.

The boy pulled his hood from his hoodie down. That’s when I saw them. These big, black, bulging eyes.

Once again he asked, “Can you please let me in? I need to come in and use a phone.”

A little reluctant after I saw the eyes, I was unsure on what to do. I wasn’t married at the time, so I couldn’t ask my husband on what to do or anything like that. Guessing he had a weird dominant gene in him, I let him in. I never knew that this would be the scariest moment of my life.

The boy came in and sat in front of the fireplace. I was wondering why he did this, considering he had to use my phone.

“Don’t you need to use my phone?” I asked thinking thing he just forgot or wanted to warm up after being in the cold for so long.

He didn’t answer me. He just sat there, staring blankly at the fireplace. Just then the power went out. Thinking it was just the blizzard, I went to the basement to try and get the power back on. When I went down, I saw there was nothing wrong with the box of wires. It just wouldn’t turn on.

‘What’s going on,’ I thought aimlessly to myself. ‘This doesn’t make any sense.’

Walking upstairs and into my living room, I saw the boy wasn’t there. What was even worse was that the whole place was ramshackled. Guessing now that all of this had to do with the boy, I was frightened. I should’ve never told the boy he could come in. Hearing ghostly laughter from my library, I got a candle and went to investigate it. I brought a broom too, just in case I had to use it as a weapon. Hopefully I wouldn’t. I made my way to the library. I had a little fire on in there, too. When I realized what was in there, I was infuriated. All of my prized books were all burning in the fire. I wanted to find this boy now – and fast. I looked behind the bookshelves. Nothing but laughter – ghostly laughter. I got mad.

“Stop playing hide and seek and just leave!” I screamed this.

Realizing I might of scared him, I threw in “please don’t cause any more havoc” and “why are you doing this?”.

That’s when the boy came out. He just stood in front of the fireplace, staring at me with his black eyes. I felt a shudder go down my back. It made me uneasy.

“Please, just go,” I said trying to convince him one last time.

Then there – right before my eyes – he just vanished. He just faded out of view. My mouth hung open. What did I just experience? Something supernatural? I was unsure so I decided to go look it up on my computer. I finally reach a website called mythical legends and lore. It had stuff about black-eyed children. As I dug deeper, I realized it was similar to what I experienced. It also said not to let them in.

‘Well big woop,’ I thought to myself. ‘Too late for that.’

The website said that they ask to use something.

‘Like a phone,’ I thought. Everything was making sense.

It also said that if you let them in, you can get side effects like a bleeding nose. I didn’t want this, so I thought it was a good idea to bring in a psychic to bring in sage to get rid of the presence that was still strong in my home.

The psychic’s name was Madame Zelga Boroff. She felt that weird presence like I did, and immediately she asked if it was a black-eyed kid. I told her yes, and she said the work was done and that it shouldn’t come back and that if it did to call her and she’ll get rid of it once more. I told her ok and thanks.

After that weird day, everything was back to normal. I never told anyone about this story until now because I thought they would think I’m crazy. That is why I’ve kept my identity a secret. And remember this, if some of these black-eyed children come to your door, don’t let them in.