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Lighthouse is a production of I Heart

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Radio and bamfor Productions.

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When you're young and the weight of the world

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becomes too much to bear, your room

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is often the safest place for you to hide away.

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Whether it's a fight with your parents, a bully

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bothering you at school, or even just the desperate

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need for some time alone. With the door

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closed, surrounded by your favorite things,

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your room becomes a sanctuary for you

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and you alone. Sometimes,

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though, that changes. Do

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you know what it's like to have your safe place

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turn against you, to have your room

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become a prison that entraps you night

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after night, day after day, with

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nowhere else to turn to as a safety

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net. I do, and

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it started after we found the dark room

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in the basement. It has

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been six months since we moved into Lighthouse.

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The season's changed and we welcomed

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a new year. Nineteen sixty

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four didn't feel any different than nineteen

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sixty three, but a new

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year often brings new beginnings. I

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hope that would be the case for us, but

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that couldn't have been further from the truth. After

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the first night in Lighthouse, my sister

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and I lived in constant fear of the man

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in the hat, though he appeared

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at my doorway the first night, we often saw

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him elsewhere. Sometimes

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it was a quick glance out of the corner of our eye.

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Others he made himself fully known, his

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sinister smile making our hair

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stand on end as he disappeared around a

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corner. Despite telling our parents

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what we had experienced, mother didn't

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believe us. She blamed the incidents

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on us acting out, claiming we were

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not giving our new home a chance and trying

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to sabotage all that she and our father

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worked for. She thought we missed our old

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life, as if moving from hotel

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to motel every three months could be something

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someone could actually miss.

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She forbid us from even speaking of it. Her

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father often didn't respond with anything beyond

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a sullen nod in agreement with her. He

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looked distant during the conversation and

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didn't seem to want to contribute to it until

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one night when I found him in the study.

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When we moved into Lighthouse, the home

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was already furnished from days before.

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Various bits and pieces of furniture littered

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the house, often hastily covered by a

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sheet to keep from getting dusty. Over

2:17

time, my mother had cleaned up and arranged

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every room to her liking, except

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for the study. My father insisted

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that be left to him. Truth be

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told, he didn't change much about it. There

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was a desk and matching chair off to the

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side of the room, along with another seating

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area. Hanging on the wall above

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the couch were various trophies from parent

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hunting trips from long ago animal

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heads, including a deer, a lion, and

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a bear. There were grotesque

2:45

things that my mother hated, but my father

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refused to remove. Just below

2:49

them was an ancient shotgun, presumably

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the very same gun that claimed the lives of

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those animals. Despite all

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the extravagant decor, the focal

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point of the room was actually the law large

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decorative easy chair. It

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was covered in red velvet and

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soft to the touch. A fireplace

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sat before it so one could sit in

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front of it on cold winter nights.

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Just above the fireplace was an old painting,

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one that my father said his mother had commissioned

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when he was a child. It shows

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his parents, his brother, and a younger

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version of himself. The portrait

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made them look regal, like royalty,

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and I was fascinated by it. On

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the night he finally acknowledged the things in lighthouse.

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I had just finished getting ready for bed and came

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downstairs to wish him good night. He

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was sitting in the easy chair, leaned back, drink

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in hand. I wouldn't have considered

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him a drinker, having only ever seen him touch

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alcohol once before, but it

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was obvious that he was already a few

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in by that point, evident by the

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half empty bottle beside him.

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His eyes, slightly glazed, were staring

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at the portrait intently. He was

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absent mindedly rubbing his scar.

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I don't think he even registered in my being

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there until after I gave him a kiss.

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I turned to leave when he suddenly

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grabbed my arm with such force that I

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yelped in surprise. My father

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had never laid a finger on me before,

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so I was caught off guard. I looked

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at him, his eyes refocusing

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on me as his words slurred

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from his lips. Stay

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away from the man in the

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hat. He stared

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hard at me for a few moments before letting

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me go, turning back to his drink.

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Did he know something I didn't? I

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was so shocked he even acknowledged

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it that I did not press him further

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on it. Instead, I went

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to bed and slept fitfully with the knowledge

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of my father, believing our claims our

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only solace in those early days came

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from an unlikely source. At

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first, I thought it was just a dream,

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a reoccurring one at that one

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that was hard to separate from reality.

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In the dream, I was still in my bed.

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Sometimes I lean was with me, curled up in the

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dark. Somewhere in the distance,

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unknown to me, I could hear a soft melody

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start to play. Its tune

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was hauntingly familiar. However,

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I could not place the sound. It

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sounded like something that might play out of a jewelry

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or a music box, with a slight tinniness

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to it. Instead of searching

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for its source, its soothing

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song would begin to lull me back to

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sleep, toward a dream

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within a dream, Until

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one night I realized that it was no dream.

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The music was real. I

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quickly got out of bed and listened attentively.

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At first I thought it was coming from a

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car traveling down the main road. Sound

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traveled funny along the bluff. I

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stepped out onto my balcony, the

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cool air coming off the ocean chilling

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my skin. I looked off to the

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lighthouse in the not so far distance

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and strained my ears to hear the melody,

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but out here was not as prevalent. Stepping

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back into my room, I closed

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my eyes to concentrate, doing

6:10

my best to block out all other sound. I

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strained my ears to follow the melody.

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I moved about the area, playing a makeshift

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game of hot and cold, trying to find

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where in the room the music got louder. On

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the far side of the room, opposite my four

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poster bed, was where it was the loudest.

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Was it coming from the walls. On

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the floor below me was an ornate

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metal vent that I hadn't paid much attention

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to before, But now I

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dropped to all fours and placed

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my ear close to it. The music

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grew louder. Who was coming

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from somewhere in Lighthouse. I

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didn't know where yet, but

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I was going to find out Lighthouse

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Chapter two. The

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next morning, my sister came into my room

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to wake me. The first thing I saw was

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her smile as she excitedly tried

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to tell me that she had something for me. However,

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I was anxious to tell her of my discovery,

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and I spoke over her. The music

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isn't a dream I said, it's coming

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from inside the house. She frowned

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a bit, as eight year olds with a single minded

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purpose often do when their train of thought

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is derailed. When she didn't respond,

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I nudged her. It was then and I noticed

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she was hiding something behind her back.

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It was a card once she had decorated

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with flowers and a gigantic

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smiling son. Confused, I opened

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it and read in her crayon streaked

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handwriting what she had written inside. Happy

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Birthday to the greatest sister in the world.

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It was a birthday card for me. I

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had completely forgotten that it was my twelfth

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birthday. I wrapped her up in the

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biggest hug I had ever given anyone, and squealed

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with the light Thank you, Leney, this

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is the best birthday card I've ever gotten. What

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do you want to do today, she asked me. It's

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your special day. I smiled

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at her, because the previous night

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determined exactly what my answer

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was going to be. We made her way

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downstairs to the kitchen where my mother

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was preparing breakfast. She put a plate

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of bacon and eggs in front of me, arranged

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to look like a smiling face. Happy

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Birthday, birthday girl, she greeted

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me warmly. I enthusiastically

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dug into the meal as my response, knowing

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that I would likely need the energy for the day's

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mission. I think someone forgot to turn

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off the radio last night, my mother continued.

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I heard it in the middle of the night. It

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wasn't the radio, Mama, my sister said,

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we don't know where it's from. No need

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to make up excuses, my mother replied,

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just please try to remember to turn

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it off, okay, sweetie. Leey

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didn't argue beyond that, but instead

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asked about my father's whereabouts, causing

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my mother to frown. He's

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still sleeping, she told us, with

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a hint of sadness. He was up

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late last night in his study, but I'm

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sure he'll be down soon. I, however,

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did not wait for that. Instead, with

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a kiss on my mother's cheek and an assurance

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to my sister that I would be back soon, I

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ran upstairs to get ready for the day. I

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quickly showered, dressed, and pulled out the flashlight

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my parents got me in case of a power outage.

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I had never used it, so I clicked

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it on a few times to make sure it's still worked.

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When I was satisfied, I set out

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to find my sister, who was out playing. The

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grounds surrounding lighthouse were vast

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and prime for two young girls to explore,

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and those early months we covered every

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inch of the property, finding the nooks and

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crannies long lost to time.

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Though we were not allowed in the lighthouse, Lenie

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still played near it. Even if we

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wanted to get inside, we couldn't. The

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only entry was a door secured with the padlock,

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one whose key was nowhere to be found,

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at least according to my father, And

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after all the talk of how unsafe it was,

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we were afraid of the floor collapsing beneath us

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anyway. So there it sat, a reminder

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of days gone by, a relic of

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the past. I hadn't seen

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the light atop the lighthouse since our first

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night in the house. I didn't know what caused

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it, and because of how afraid Lenie

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already was that evening, I never told

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her about it. It was for the best. It

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was here that I found Lenie playing

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among the flowers growing at the base of the

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lighthouse. She was glad to see

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me, knowing I was ready to begin our

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mission, and followed me back to the house.

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Once inside, she ran to her room to grab

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her own flashlight while I waited a mind

11:06

to tell her the plan of action I had formulated.

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She was taking unusually long as I

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was about to go get her myself, until

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I stopped dead in my tracks. Coming

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up from the vent in my bedroom again,

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I could hear it, the music

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box melody in the

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light of day. It was even more beautiful

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than I remembered it to be from the night before. My

11:28

breath caught in my throat as I

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was entranced by it, but only for

11:32

a moment. I quickly ran across

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the hall to Linie's room to tell her, but when

11:37

I burst through the door, she was already leaning

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down toward the vent in her own room, attentively

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listening. It's in the vents,

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She told me it's coming from downstairs.

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She grabbed her flashlight from the dresser

11:49

and followed me to explore the rest of the house.

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We opted to start on the first floor, as

11:54

it made sense that the music was traveling

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up the vents to us, with Linie's starting

11:58

in the dining room while I searched in the library.

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Every time we were near event, we stopped to

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listen and tried to determine if

12:05

the music was louder or not. By the time

12:08

I found myself outside my father's study,

12:10

I realized he was inside. He must

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have awakened sometime during our search

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and was already sitting in his favorite

12:17

armchair. I usually didn't like to disturb

12:19

him, but being as how today

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was a special occasion, I tiptoed

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him. Good morning, father, I

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said, causing him to stir a bit in his chair.

12:29

He turned to see me and only gave me

12:31

a polite nod of acknowledgment before turning

12:34

away. I waited to see if

12:36

he would say anything, and when he didn't,

12:38

I pressed further. It's my

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birthday, I told him. I'm

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twelve today. He turned again,

12:45

now using his entire body and not

12:47

just his head, and looked at me.

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So it is, he replied, Happy

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birthday. He raised his glass to

12:54

me as I realized he was already

12:57

drinking. It was not even ten am,

12:59

and here he was already drowning in liquor.

13:02

When he turned away again, I left the study

13:04

upset that I did not receive warmer

13:07

birthday, wishing I couldn't dwell on that

13:09

for too long, though, as I still had a job

13:11

to do. After about an hour or

13:13

so of searching, my sister and I met in the

13:16

kitchen. Neither of us had

13:18

any luck so far, and we're feeling

13:20

a little deflated. We sat

13:22

down at the table to have a snack and formulate

13:25

our next move. As we both

13:27

took turns biting into an apple, the music

13:29

continued to play from somewhere. It

13:32

was beginning to drive me mad, not

13:34

being able to figure it out. When

13:37

we finished our apple, I brought

13:39

our plate over to the sink to wash it

13:41

and noticed that the music seemed to be louder.

13:45

I looked around, trying to find

13:47

event nearby, but to no avail. Looking

13:50

to the left of the sink, the house

13:52

is ancient dumb waiter sat on

13:54

a whim. I opened its door, the metal

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grating from years of disuse.

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The melody wafted up the shaft into

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the kitchen. My sister and I looked

14:05

at each other as we came to the

14:07

same realization. It was coming

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from the basement. The entry

14:11

to the basement was in the pantry just off

14:13

the kitchen. We hadn't yet explored

14:16

it since we moved in, but now seemed

14:18

like the perfect time. The door

14:20

swung open slowly with

14:23

a horrific creek. It

14:26

revealed the basement below us, darker

14:28

than pitch lights, which

14:30

proved to be fruitless. The

14:32

bulbs likely hadn't been changed in years

14:35

and were burnt out. Leni

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stood at the top of the stairs, looking

14:39

down into the abyss. I could

14:41

tell by the way she was staring that this

14:43

might be the end of her journey. I'm

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scared, she admitted, her

14:48

eyes never leaving the darkness. The

14:50

music still wafted up from the shadowy

14:52

depths below, like a siren song,

14:55

calling out to us. It's okay,

14:57

I told her, I can take it from here. I

15:00

turned on my flashlight and aimed its

15:02

beam down the steps. To my

15:04

relief, everything looked surprisingly

15:06

normal. However, I couldn't help

15:08

feeling a bit of apprehension. As

15:11

I took my first step downward, the

15:13

wood groaned beneath my feet, and

15:15

I hoped the wood wasn't rotted. I

15:17

took the next step, and then another. Soon

15:20

I was at the bottom of the stairs, my

15:22

flashlight beam moving back and forth

15:24

as I looked around. What do you see,

15:27

Leney called out to me. Still standing in the

15:29

doorway, A lot of junk, I

15:31

replied, my father's family

15:33

hoarded a lot of their belongings down here, it seemed.

15:36

While the rest of the house was dusty when we

15:38

first moved in, it was nothing compared

15:40

to the basement. I remember my mother

15:42

telling me that cleaning it out was a product

15:45

for a rainy day. I moved cautiously

15:48

in the darkness, not wanting to bump

15:50

into anything or accidentally break

15:52

something. The music continued

15:54

to play, softly, coming

15:57

from the left side of the room.

15:59

The basement ran the length of the entire

16:01

house, making it seem impossibly

16:04

large, especially filled with so many

16:06

things. Old furniture, large

16:08

portraits, and boxes upon boxes

16:10

made it a pseudo maze full of family

16:12

memories. After some careful

16:15

navigating, I found myself standing

16:17

in front of a solid wall, or rather

16:19

a wall with metal shelving lining the

16:21

length of it. I stopped

16:23

in my tracks and listened. Music

16:26

still played, but it sounded

16:28

more towards the right. I swung

16:31

my flashlight in the direction and slowly

16:33

walked that way, stopping every few

16:35

steps to listen again. The source

16:38

of the music was close, but

16:40

where I looked at

16:42

the metal shelf against the wall, and confusion

16:46

taking a brief look around. There didn't seem

16:48

to be anything of importance on the shelf itself,

16:50

just a bunch of old junk and small

16:52

boxes. Perhaps in the house this

16:54

old the acoustics were playing tricks

16:57

on me. Was it actually coming from

16:59

somewhere else in entirely? I

17:01

began to make my way back toward my

17:03

sister when I heard a crash behind me. I

17:06

quickly turned and directed my beam

17:09

on the floor. Lying there

17:11

was a box, one that had fallen

17:13

near where I was just standing.

17:16

Did I do that? Did I knock something

17:19

off balance without realizing it, causing

17:21

it to fall? Just beyond

17:23

the box? I spot an old pair of

17:25

shoes on their

17:27

own. They wouldn't have caught my eye,

17:29

but it looked like they were attached

17:32

to a pair of pants. I

17:34

slowly moved my beam up, and

17:37

those pants turned into a man's overcoat.

17:40

A feeling of dread formed in my stomach

17:43

as my brain began to formulate that it

17:45

wasn't just a random assortment of clothing bunch

17:47

together in the dark basement, but rather something

17:49

else entirely, someone else entirely.

17:52

My flashlight beam continued its slow

17:55

ascent up the coat as

17:58

my dread continued to build. I

18:00

was inches away from revealing the identity

18:02

of this stranger in my basement, but in

18:04

my heart I already knew who

18:06

it was. A ghastly

18:08

smile greeted me as my light fell

18:11

upon it. The man

18:13

in the hat was there. Lighthouse

18:19

will return after these messages,

18:28

and now back to lighthouse,

18:35

I screamed, but through some sort of miracle,

18:37

continued to hold my ground. When I exhausted

18:39

all the air in my lungs, I stood frozen

18:41

in fear as my eyes locked with those

18:44

of the man in the hat. His smile

18:46

never wavered, nor did his stance.

18:49

He simply stared at me. With

18:51

my first clear look at him. He looked to

18:53

be in his late fifties. The

18:55

flesh of his skin hung loose,

18:58

as if he had started to deep compose,

19:00

giving him an even more distressing appearance.

19:03

His clothing, though once an immaculate condition,

19:05

now was in the process of slowly falling

19:07

apart, as if moths has started

19:10

to make a meal of it. We were at an

19:12

impasse, as neither of us moved a muscle

19:14

for several moments. I was about to take

19:16

a step backwards to get away from this

19:18

horrifying specter. When the man in the

19:20

hat turned his head toward the wall, his

19:23

arm long and gaunt, lifted

19:26

in unison as a single finger

19:28

pointed toward the shelf I had been looking

19:30

through earlier. At first, I wasn't

19:32

sure what he was doing. I hesitated

19:35

to get closer to him, but my curiosity was

19:37

beginning to get the better of me. Was

19:39

there something on the shelf he wanted, something

19:42

he wanted me to see. I tried

19:44

to think of what it could possibly be. When

19:46

I heard the music once

19:50

again. It sounded like it was coming from the direction

19:53

of the shelf, and then it dawned on me

19:56

the music wasn't coming from something on the shelf,

19:58

but from behind it. I

20:00

took a step forward to see what was there. When

20:03

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I

20:05

yelped and nearly jumped ten feet in the air. As

20:07

I turned to see leaning my sister staring

20:09

back at me. I heard you scream,

20:12

she said, I thought you were hurt. Despite

20:15

her fear of the dark, my sister made

20:17

the trek through the basement to make sure I was okay.

20:19

What was it, she asked, reminding me that

20:22

the man in the hat was behind me. I

20:24

turned in his direction again, using my light to

20:26

show her the visitor, but instead he

20:29

was gone. What are you looking

20:31

for, she asked me, Nothing,

20:33

I replied, but I think I found where

20:35

the music's coming from. I went

20:37

back to the shelf and pushed some boxes aside.

20:40

There hidden behind the metal rack

20:43

was a small wooden door. If

20:46

not for the man in the hat, I never would have taken

20:48

a second look. I considered trying

20:50

to move the entire shelf, but it

20:52

was next to impossible with everything still

20:54

on it. I asked my sister to shine

20:57

her light at the shelf while I started to remove boxes

20:59

from it. One by one. I took them away

21:01

and stacked them neatly near by. Among

21:04

the things were artifacts from the days when the lighthouse

21:06

was still in operation, a container

21:09

of spark plugs, presumably for the light

21:11

itself, a box of old clothing

21:13

including a seaman's cap, and instruction

21:15

manuals for various controls. There

21:18

was more than I anticipated, and it took close to

21:20

twenty minutes for me to finish. With

21:22

the boxes removed, it was significantly

21:24

easier to move the shelfing from its place.

21:27

It wasn't long before the door was fully revealed.

21:30

It wasn't until that moment that I realized

21:32

the pit in my stomach had returned. Just

21:35

an uncomfortable feeling at first, but

21:37

it grew steadily creeping over

21:39

me like an icy chill. My intuition

21:42

was telling me that whatever was behind this

21:44

door was something that was not meant for us.

21:48

My sister, however, her bravery growing

21:50

by the second, ran up to the door and placed

21:52

her ear against the wood. She smiled

21:55

as she looked at me. It's inside,

21:57

she exclaimed. Before I could stop

22:00

where she grabbed the doors handle. My stomach lurched

22:02

as she did, anticipating the worst. It

22:06

felt as if the world around us changed.

22:09

Staring into the gaping blackness of this

22:11

secret room, I felt a rush of stale

22:13

air escape it, as if something was

22:15

trapped inside for years and hurried

22:18

out towards freedom. The dread I already

22:20

felt inside me reached a breaking point,

22:23

and it felt like an impressive force pressing

22:25

down on my shoulders, like

22:27

all the light in the world had gone out in a

22:29

single instant, leaving us in a world

22:31

of never ending darkness. Lenny

22:34

was already inside the room, using her flashlight

22:36

to search I crouched to enter

22:38

the room as I was a hair taller than the door

22:40

frame, and I felt something brush against

22:43

my face. I momentarily

22:45

panic, thinking I had walked into a spiderweb,

22:47

only to find my hand hit a tiny

22:49

metal chain. My mind registered

22:52

it as connection to a lightbulb, and

22:54

I gave it a gentle tug. The

22:57

room illuminated in a deep red

22:59

color, letting us see a little more

23:01

beyond our flashlights. It

23:03

wasn't that large of a space, maybe

23:06

four feet by six, but I had a table

23:08

with two large trays, along with another

23:10

shelf filled with an assortment of things. Jars

23:13

of some sort of liquid pelled to paper,

23:15

and various other odds and ends sat on it above

23:18

our heads. A line of string criss

23:20

cross just beneath the ceiling, with clothes

23:22

pins hanging from it. But what drew

23:24

our attention before anything else was on the

23:26

table itself, a small

23:28

music box, the source of

23:30

the mysterious music that plagued us for

23:32

weeks. Its tiny gears

23:35

turned as the song continued, It's

23:37

intricate inner workings creating the haunting

23:39

melody. My sister, entranced

23:41

by it all, made her way toward it as

23:43

her fingers brushed against its side. The music

23:46

suddenly stopped. She pulled back for

23:48

a second, startled by its sudden end,

23:51

but then took it. Can I keep

23:53

it? She asked me curiously. If

23:56

this trinket locked inside this tiny room

23:58

made her happy, then so be it. Besides,

24:01

no harm could come from it, could

24:04

it? With most of our curiosity

24:06

now abated, I turned my attention to the rest

24:08

of the room. For some reason, it

24:11

just felt wrong. The

24:14

red light wasn't helping that feeling, either, so I

24:16

turned my flashlight back on and began to look

24:18

over the shelves. On the very

24:20

bottom were three large jugs with handwritten

24:23

labels identifying them as developer,

24:26

stop, bath, and fixer. These

24:28

words activated a memory deep in my brain.

24:31

When I was younger, I had developed an interest

24:34

in photography, and my father taught

24:36

me how people developed photos on their own.

24:38

The jugs, the trays, and the red light

24:41

all began to make sense. Now this

24:43

was once someone's photography lab. It

24:46

was a dark room. On the shelf

24:48

above the jugs were spare cases of photopaper,

24:50

along with a small camera. It

24:53

was too dark to see the make and the model,

24:55

but it looked to be in good condition. I

24:57

slipped it into my pocket. If le

25:00

he was going to walk away from this adventure with a prize,

25:02

then why shouldn't I as well. Filling

25:04

out the rest of the shelves were large volumes

25:07

of photographs. I took one from

25:09

its place and glanced through it quickly, not

25:11

finding anything of interest, just photos

25:13

of people looking just as disinterested as I

25:15

was, accompanied by long

25:18

pages of notes. As I went

25:20

to return it to its shelf, something

25:22

fell out of the back of the album.

25:25

I saw it was a pair of records, both

25:27

slightly smaller than forty five. They

25:29

must have been tucked away, long forgotten by whomever

25:31

put them there. I didn't recognize

25:33

either of the artists, one of them

25:36

being a single of Stay on the Right

25:38

Side of the Road by Noraje Mayhem's and

25:40

the Blue Chips, and the other called The

25:42

Raggedy Man by Aida Jones

25:44

and Edward Meeker. Unfortunately,

25:46

the Aida Jones record chattered, but

25:48

the other one seemed to be in one piece. For

25:51

a twelve year old, finding these as treasure

25:53

in a secret room was not very exciting. I

25:56

put them back as my eyes scanned the rest of the

25:58

album spines, all with various states

26:00

from the early nineteen hundreds up to the late

26:03

nineteen thirties. At the very

26:05

top of the shelf was a dusty, old teddy bear.

26:07

How he made his way into the dark room was

26:09

beyond me, but he was far out

26:12

of reach, so I ignored him.

26:14

Closer at hand were a handful of loose photos

26:17

just sitting on a shelf, as if

26:19

they were meant to be placed in an album, but the person

26:21

doing so never got around to it. Setting

26:24

my flashlight down, I took the loose photos

26:26

and began to look through them, leaning watching

26:28

over my shoulder. To my surprise,

26:30

most of them were of lighthouse. On

26:33

the bottom of each someone had placed

26:35

a small piece of tape on which they had

26:37

written nineteen nine. We

26:39

could only assume that it was when the photos

26:41

were taken. Almost were taken

26:44

from a distance. Some of the latter ones were closer.

26:46

A few more showed off the property, especially

26:49

the large tree out front. The one

26:51

that caught my eye, though, showed the front

26:53

of the house with a man standing

26:55

out on the front porch. Who's

26:57

that, Leanie asked as she leaned in.

27:00

Those are trying to get a better look. She

27:02

grabbed her own flashlight and illuminated

27:04

the photo. We both gasped when

27:06

we recognized who it was. It

27:08

was the man in the hat. Lighthouse

27:16

were returned after a word from our sponsors,

27:24

and now lighthouse continues.

27:31

I felt a sick feeling wash over me.

27:35

I already knew that the man in the hats appearances

27:37

were on the supernatural sort, but holding

27:40

concrete evidence of his former life in my hand

27:42

was something else entirely well.

27:44

The quality of this photo was poor. I could

27:46

almost see his eyes staring directly

27:48

back at me. His ghastly smile

27:51

seemed to grow wider the more I looked.

27:53

I was only jolted out of this trance by something

27:55

creaking above our head. We both

27:58

looked up to see the red lights slow only

28:00

swaying in an indiscernible breeze.

28:02

It's light casting dark shadows in every

28:05

corner of the room. Linie's flashlight

28:07

began to fail, then it's bright center,

28:09

blinking once twice three times before

28:11

cutting out entirely. Mine, still

28:13

sitting on the shelf nearby, followed suit. My

28:16

sick feeling got worse, as if

28:18

all the air in the room was sucked away

28:21

in an instant. Suddenly,

28:23

I felt a presence there with us. We

28:25

were no longer alone in the dark room.

28:28

I froze, not wanting

28:30

it to sense us also, but I feared

28:32

it was too late. Close your

28:34

eyes, I whispered, hoping

28:36

Lenie heard me. I closed mine as well,

28:38

the darkness of my eyelids blocking out the red

28:41

tinted darkness of the room. I didn't

28:43

want to make another sound, but I wanted to help keep

28:45

Lenie calm. I softly mouthed

28:47

the words that formed in my head one,

28:51

two, three,

28:55

four five.

29:00

Whatever was there with us, I felt its hot

29:02

breath on my neck. I

29:04

let the photos drop to the floor. Run,

29:07

I screamed at her. I grabbed her hand,

29:09

and we took off. We quickly navigated

29:11

our way back through the basement mazes. We heard something

29:14

step out of the dark room and hiss behind

29:16

us. We

29:18

didn't bother looking back. We were both too afraid,

29:20

but we could sense it right on our heels.

29:23

When we reached the basement steps, we took

29:25

them two at a time, not wanting that thing to

29:27

catch us. I stumbled over the last

29:29

few, but Leany steadied me and helped pull

29:31

me through the doorway. Once we were back in the pantry.

29:34

I slammed the basement door shut, sliding the

29:36

bolt in place with a satisfying click. We

29:38

both collapsed against the door, breathing heavy

29:41

but safe for now. We

29:43

didn't tell our parents about the dark room nor

29:46

the thing that chased us. My mother

29:48

barely believed us about the man in the hat, and

29:50

after what my father said about him, who

29:52

knows how mad he would be about this. Instead,

29:55

we made a pack to watch out for each other and

29:57

keep it to ourselves. The rest

29:59

of that day was fairly uneventful. I

30:02

stayed in my room for most of it, trying to calm

30:04

myself down from the earlier events and

30:07

also examining my newly found birthday

30:09

present to myself, the camera

30:11

from the dark room. According to

30:13

the label on its side, it was a Kodak to a

30:15

autographic Brownie. It was a foldable

30:18

camera, meaning that it's lenses

30:20

came out like an accordion when you wanted to use

30:22

it, and tucked away neatly when you did. Not.

30:25

To my surprise, it's still had a few negatives

30:27

left in it. I wasn't sure if they were

30:30

still good or not, but I made

30:32

it my mission to test it out. Later

30:34

that evening, my mother made breakfast for

30:36

dinner in honor of my birthday, and

30:38

then I was treated to a delicious chocolate

30:40

cake. My father stayed in his study

30:42

for the duration of the celebration, except for when

30:44

I blew out the candles on my cake. Reluctantly,

30:47

he agreed to let me take a family photo with

30:49

my new camera, even though he questioned where

30:52

I had gotten it from. I only lied a

30:54

tiny bit, telling him I founded in one of

30:56

the many rooms of the house, leaving

30:58

out its exact location. When he pressed

31:00

further, my mother urged him to drop

31:02

it, and with a grumble, he did, Being

31:05

as how there was no time or on it. I had

31:07

to be content with not actually being in the photo

31:09

myself, but I was okay. My

31:11

sister sat in from the birthday cake as my parents

31:13

surrounded her on either side. With a

31:16

single click, the photo was taken,

31:18

and before I removed the camera from my eyes,

31:21

my father was already to his study again.

31:23

The rest of us ate our cake in silence.

31:26

It wasn't until late that night, as I lay

31:28

in bed, that I realized that the feeling

31:31

of the house was shifting. Whether

31:33

it was the way my father was secluding himself

31:35

from us what we discovered in the basement,

31:37

or a combination of both. Things

31:40

were changing. From across

31:42

the hall, I could hear Leaney switch on the music box.

31:45

It's haunting melody no longer a mystery

31:47

to us. Instead, it almost gave

31:49

me a feeling of comfort. Despite

31:51

that, my thoughts turned to the dark room

31:53

and what had happened earlier. Someone

31:56

had to have locked that room away, But for

31:59

what reason? And who had left

32:01

the music box there? Why had

32:03

it begun playing on its own? And

32:06

that thing we felt? What

32:08

was it? Was it locked in there?

32:11

Did we unwittingly set it free? I

32:14

tried not to think about it as I began to drift

32:16

off to sleep. My eyes grew

32:19

heavy as the music box lulled me off

32:21

into dreamland. I slept

32:23

soundly that night, for the first time since

32:25

we moved into Lighthouse, and

32:27

I'm glad I did, because

32:30

after that night everything

32:32

changed. Lighthouse

32:53

is a production of I Heart Radio and

32:55

Bamford Productions. Chapter

32:58

two featured the voice of Ali

33:00

Trasher, written and directed

33:02

by Jeff Himbuck, audio engineering,

33:05

an original musical score by Corey

33:07

Celeste. Production assistance

33:10

by Alex Gona executive

33:12

produced by Holly Fry. Questions

33:15

comments, you can reach us at

33:17

the Man in the Hat is Watching at gmail

33:20

dot com. Thank you for listening.