During dark nights, when everyone sleeps in silence, he, who comes without invitation, wakes the child. She sleeps in the cradle, though a bit bigger already, she wakes up in the middle of the night, for noises unknown. She stands up, clings onto the bars of the cradle, calls for her mom with fear, but she never comes, as she’s sound asleep in the room of the other side of the dark house.
The dark shape enters the house, takes its way to the children’s room. He slowly comes closer, the light of the moon shines through the glass of the front door, enough for the child to notice the uninvited figure but instead of making it clear to see, the moon gives him an even fearful silhouette. The little girl trembles, cries for her parents but no one hears her.
All of the sudden, it’s silence again, in the pitch dark house, everyone’s peacefully asleep as if nothing has happened. The frightful man disappeared but the little girl cannot sleep alone for ever. Years pass by, no answers found, but during stormy nights the silhouette comes backs for his moonlit visits to scare the now adult child.
Now, the toys, that never existed, have been sitting lined up on an iron shelf, start moving at their own will. They start walking but all of their movements are staggered only to after one or two steps, they fall off the shelf lifelessly. Maybe, they were brought by the shady shape, maybe they were lined up there, in a previous life. Whichever the case is, they can never leave the shady room, of dim memoirs. Neither does the child, who is still waiting for someone to rescue her, in the cradle of frighteningly dark nights.