This is a story from my childhood.

When I was a kid, I lived in a two-story rented house.

My mother also worked, so I was often alone when I got home from school.

One day, I got home late from school in the evening, and the house was dark.

"'M''am!' I called out, and from the second floor, I heard a small voice reply.

"'Yes?'

"'It felt like she was calling me, so I went up to the second floor.

I called out to her again as I reached the top of the stairs, and from the end room, I heard,

Yes. I was overcome with a sense of unease, but I really wanted to see my mother, so I slowly

approached the room.

Then I heard the front door opened downstairs.

My mother was unloading her shopping bags.

Shinske, are you home?

She called out in a bright voice.

Thrilled that she was back, I ran downstairs.

But as I did, I glanced at the end room for just a second.

The door creaked open.

At that moment, I saw something strange through the gap.

A white face was looking right at me.

Hey, Mom, have you seen my mug?

What do you mean, look in the cupboard above the sink?

Why would it be up there?

...