WEBVTT

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Hey friends. Tisha here from the
ISFET Archives team. I hope that you

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are all doing fabulous. As we
mentioned in the previous episode, we are

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taking a short break. I know
it's terrible. I miss you so much,

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but we are excited to return with
season two in January. We already

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have the first episode all queued up
ready to go, and if you're in

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our bnch here, we have the
first five episodes ready to drop. We

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cannot wait to jump into season two
with you. In the meantime, I

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wanted to share another project that we
are really proud of here at Creative Typo,

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and that is called Into the Night
Anthology. We'll put a link in

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this episode's description for you, but
this is a series of standalone episode that

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explore everything from eerie fiction to paranormal
to sci fi. It has everything.

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And the cherry on top of that
is that Nari, Yes Amber from isfat

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Archives does the narrations. So trust
me, her voice is going to whisk

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you away on this story and then
the twists are going to bring you back

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for more, and you'll be like
a yo yo getting whisked away by Nari's

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voice and then getting pulled back in
by the twists and then whisked away again

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and pull back in and you get
what I'm saying. So let's check out

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this episode Charcoal Drawings and we'll ride
the anticipation Yo yo together hand in hand,

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High excursionists. I just wanted to
take a moment to say thank you.

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We appreciate every single one of our
listeners. We do read and respond

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to all comments on Twitter, Facebook
or YouTube, so please feel free to

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stop in and say hi from time
to time. I want to give a

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special thanks to Nico Rodriguez for his
rating and review on Apple Podcasts. We

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are so glad you enjoy our stories. This is a special two episode week.

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Today's episode of course, and then
on Halloween we will be airing the

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title episode of Into the Night.
Be sure to join us to see where

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it all began, and don't forget
bring a friend. Welcome to Endo the

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Night. I'm Nari, your guide
on today's excursion down a twisted path.

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Be careful not to get lost.
Be it dark or light, it's easy

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to lose your way. Are you
ready? Then let's begin. This episode

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deals with themes of supernatural horror.
Listener discretion is advised. Charcoal Drawings,

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the pinks, purples, and golds
of an early October sunrise filtered their way

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through the scattered clouds. Autumn was
Mila Kennedy's favorite time of year, and

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this year was special. After dreaming
of becoming an art teacher since junior high,

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Mila finally had a position at Highland
Hills Elementary for the area. This

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was a plum job. How she
was hired over teachers with years more experience

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she didn't know, but she wasn't
going to question her good fortune. It's

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obvious, honey, that your positive
attitude and enthusiasm won them over. Her

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mother told her, mom, You've
always been my biggest cheerleader. I just

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hope I'm good enough and don't let
the school down. Her mother took Mala

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by the elbows and leaned in her, green eyes on fire with love.

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You listen here, You are the
best teacher for this job. You've lived

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for this moment. Everyone loves your
spunk. Now go make the world a

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brighter place for those children. With
her mother's pep talk in mind, Myla

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poured herself into the school year,
teaching kindergarten through fifth grade. Art kept

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her on her toes, but she
loved every second of her job. Each

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grade brought its own challenges, but
she did her best to instill the fundamentals

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and to inspire the love for art. Children. Look at the world around

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you, she would say, everything
you see can become art if you view

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it that way. Did you see
something today that you think is art?

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Jimmy Martin raised his hand as twenty
other first graders raised theirs. Yes,

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Jimmy, I saw a bird this
morning, a blue bird. It sat

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on a wooden fence. It was
pretty, very good. Who else?

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Liza Gantry spoke next. My grandmother
has a rose bush in her front yard.

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It's yellow. Yellow is my mom's
favorite color. I'm sure it's beautiful.

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Liza wriggled and smiled a shy little
grin, pleased that her answer was

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correct. Around the class, Mila
or Miss Kennedy, as her students knew

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her, called on each child my
brother's new truck, the red barn at

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the Klaus's farm, my dog Pixie. Each child had a piece of real

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world art to talk about. Every
day, Mila Kennedy asked her students to

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think of something they could see that
they considered art. It could be as

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simple as the pencil on their desk, or as exotic as a peacock.

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After a month or so, she
asked her students to picture art objects in

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their minds. Close your eyes,
imagine what it would look like if you

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drew it on a piece of sketch
paper. She could tell by the expressions

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on their faces that her eager students
visualized their art. This is what she'd

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always wanted. Art became a part
of her student's daily lives. One day,

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mister Reynolds, the principal, stopped
her in the hallway. I'm not

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sure what magic you're casting in your
classes, miss Kennedy, but the students

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love your room. Parents have even
told me. When they're driving in the

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car or taking a walk, their
children point out the art they see.

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Keep it up. Mala blushed,
Thank you, mister Reynolds. I'll do

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my best. We're glad to have
you here. With that, Reynolds,

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always a man on the move,
strode down the hallway. His encouraging words

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fueled Mala to think of innovative ways
to teach her young students the fundamentals of

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art. They'd begun the year with
hands on clay sculptures. The children loved

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feeling the medium in their little hands. Now she needed another engaging project.

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One idea had tickled her brain for
a few months, and she decided that

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the time had come to try it
Today, class, we are going to

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put art we see down on paper. Peter, will you pass out the

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charcoal pencils for me? Lydia?
Will you give one sheet of sketch paper

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to each student? Smiling, she
patiently stood at the front of the room

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as the supplies were handed out.
What I want you to do is close

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your eyes and imagine something that it
is in this room that you would like

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to draw. Imagine it as a
piece of art, just like we've been

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practicing. She gave the squirming students
a moment to focus on what they envisioned

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drawing. Now, open your eyes
and draw what you could see. But

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Miss Kennedy, yes, Hannah,
we don't have any colors, just black.

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That's right. I want us to
practice the basics first. Later this

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year we will add color to our
drawings. For now, we are going

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to work on getting the shapes down. Make sure you give your drawing a

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title too. We will be practicing
these same drawings every day for the next

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two weeks, improving on the idea
you come up with today. Her students

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loved her, so they set to
work, doing their best to please her.

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At the end of class, a
few students rushed to put the finishing

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touches on their creations, as she'd
taught them. When the bell rang,

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they carefully turned their work into their
hour slot in the wooden cabinet next to

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Mila's desk. They placed the charcoal
pencils back in the supply box. With

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smiles on their faces, they filed
out of the room. It was the

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end of the day and the students
hurried off to their home room. Eager

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to see what her students drew.
Mala pulled the papers from the cabinet and

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flipped through them. She was puzzled. Hmm, the children did as I

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asked. They gave their drawings titles. But these are all of the same

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thing people. But these aren't people
who were in our room. One boy's

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drawing was entitled Gregor, a little
girl's was named Janno, and another named

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his Bellsor. Each child's drawing was
a version of either Gregor, Janno,

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or Belzor. Perplexed, the next
day, she addressed her class. Yesterday's

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students we were supposed to draw pictures
of something in this room. All of

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you drew figures of people. You
named them all the same three names.

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I'd asked you to draw something in
this room, but we did. Miss

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Kennedy, Lydia looked at her with
wide blue eyes. You asked us to

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close our eyes and draw what we
saw. Peter shifted in his chair and

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looked around the room at his classmates
for support. They all nodded in agreement.

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Yes, I did. We always
have our friends with us, Miss

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Kennedy, you do, Billy,
Yes, ma'am. She stood in thought

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for a moment before she realized what
her first graders meant. Of course,

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are these your imaginary friends? Peter
looked to his left and whispered something to

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no one in particular. He paused, then nodded yes, Miss Kennedy.

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Gregor says, he's our imaginary friend, and he's right here next to me.

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He's in this room, so we
can still draw him. Having imaginary

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friends was natural for children. Mila
didn't want to dash the creativity of her

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students. This world would have enough
chances to destroy their imaginations, and there

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was no reason for it to start
today. In her classroom. I did

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say we'd practice the same drawings for
two weeks, and this is what you

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chose to draw, so yes,
you can continue to draw them. Sighs

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of relief swept through the classroom.
Jimmy said, Jano says thank you.

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Mala chuckled and said, tell Jiano
he's welcome. Now for our lesson on

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the board, she modeled how to
draw body, legs, arms, and

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a head. The students went to
work. Following her lead, they created

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new versions of their previous drawings.
Each day a new aspect was practiced.

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At the end of the week,
Mila was amazed by how much their drawings

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had improved. They became more detailed
and less rudimentary. For being first graders,

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they showed a great deal of talent. She marveled at how the children's

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depictions of their imaginary friends were so
similar. Mala assumed they told each other

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so many stories about these imaginary figures
that they had a common description in mind.

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She didn't want to brag, but
the children were rapidly learning the drawing

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techniques she'd modeled for them. She
left work on Friday feeling invigorated. Her

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project was coming along better than she
had hoped. The air was crisp and

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the sky was clear. As she
walked to her car, Mala pulled her

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coat closed against her chest as the
wind whipped past her. The crimson of

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the maples mixed with the golden cottonwood
trees. How could an artist not love

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autumn? The palette of colors was
laid out across the countryside, and Mila

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took the long way home so she
could enjoy the sights a little longer.

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The next Monday, Mala picked up
her lessons where she left off again.

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The children's work was better than the
time before. Children. I'm so proud

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of you. Your artwork is really
improving and I am very impressed. Thank

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you, Miss Kennedy. Shouts of
joy erupted in the classroom. Gregor says,

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he's glad you like what you see. Peter smiled and nodded at the

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air beside him as he passed out
the charcoal pencils to his classmates. By

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Wednesday, however, an unusual change
in the drawings took Mala by surprise.

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A darkness enveloped them. The details
had improved yet again, but there was

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an unsettling look in the eyes of
Gregor Jano and Belzor. These imaginary friends

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looked downright well evil. Only two
more days to the unit remained, and

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Mala looked forward to moving on to
a happier project. Next week, they

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would create Halloween decorations for the school
hallway. On Thursday, Mila's mind played

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tricks on her as she looked over
her student's work. She could have sworn

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the eyes of the figures watched her. She heard someone whisper in the back

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of the room. As she reached
the end of the stack of drawings.

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She jumped, and a sound akin
to laughter behind her made her turn.

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Of course, there was nothing there. She gathered her purse and coat,

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looked back into her classroom, then
shut and locked the door. This project

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was no longer fun. Friday,
of course, brought even more vivid images

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from the children. Nervously, she
paced around the room, checking their work

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as they furiously drew to finish their
masterpieces. Mila was eager for the week

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and that project to be over.
She was exhausted as she made her rounds.

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Was she losing her mind? Surely
Jimmy's eyes didn't flicker black for an

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instant. No, that couldn't be. Then a deep voice behind her said,

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missus Kennedy, what do you think
it looks real? Doesn't it?

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Startled? She spun around. Peter
had held his picture up for her to

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see. She forced a smile and
said, yes, it does, and

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it did. The bell rang,
but the students didn't place their drawings in

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the cabinet. Instead, they left
them sitting on their tables and rushed out

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the door, laughing, well,
I guess on Monday I will have to

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remind them what our end of class
procedures are, she muttered to herself.

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As she reached to pick up the
first drawing, The piercing glare of Gregor

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made her blood run cold. Before
she could pick up the paper, a

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clawed black hand came out of the
drawing and grasped her wrist. Greigor cackled.

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Mala struggled to free herself. A
rush of air swept through the room

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and the paper swirled into the air, spinning frantically in a blur. Gregor

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continued his hold on her wrist.
You cannot escape my hold, Mila.

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Can I call you my missus Kennedy? Seems so formal? After all,

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we're friends, not so imaginary friends. Isn't that right, my sweet.

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His other clawed hand reached out and
caressed her face. What's happening? This

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can't be real. Oh but we
are real. We just need your help,

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two voices spoke in unison. Mala
turned around to see the incarnations of

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Jano and Belzar. My help,
what do you mean? My help?

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You can't be real. We are
real now, Mila. We've waited so

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long to be given form, and
with your help here we are the children

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and their drawings brought us into this
world. Now our work can be done.

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Jano's eyes sparkled. The three beings
hissed hideous laughter. No, you're

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nothing more than imaginary friends. I'm
dreaming that I see you. Gregor's razor

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sharp claw slid down my life forearm, and a thin stream of blood flowed.

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He placed the tip of his finger
in his mouth. This is all

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real, and I yes, you
are indeed, my sweet? What are

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you? You're no childhood imaginary friend? Belsor took a step forward. You're

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a smart one, Mala Kennedy,
No, we are not imaginary friends.

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What are you? Then? Jano
and Belsor grinned and gave a nod toward

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Gregor, who pulled her close to
him, she smelled the putrid stench of

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his breath and the odor of singed
hair. My sweet, we are demons.

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We have waited a long time for
a means to cross over. We

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have hovered in this school for decades. The children were right. We were

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in this room, and you told
them to draw what was in this room.

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You gave us our avenue to materialize
in this dimension. Why don't you

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going to do? Why are you
here? Let go of me. Mila

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tugged her arm, but Gregor only
tightened his grip. Do we are only

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the first? Others will follow?
My sweet, We are going to conquer

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00:16:15.519 --> 00:16:19.799
this world. In a flash,
he entered her body. On Monday,

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00:16:21.200 --> 00:16:30.720
it was second grade's turn to draw
what was in the room. Thank you

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00:16:30.759 --> 00:16:37.200
for joining me. Into the Night
an anthology series written by Caroline Giamanco and

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00:16:37.320 --> 00:16:41.639
narrated by Nari Quok. You can
now listen to all new episodes of Into

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00:16:41.639 --> 00:16:45.120
the Night on your favorite podcast directory. Be sure to subscribe so you never

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00:16:45.159 --> 00:16:48.559
miss an episode, and please share
with anyone you think would like to join

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00:16:48.639 --> 00:16:52.440
us on our next excursion. If
you like what you hear, please leave

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00:16:52.519 --> 00:16:56.200
us a five star review. It
really does help. Feel free to reach

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00:16:56.240 --> 00:17:00.080
out to us on Twitter at Into
the Night pod, or by email at

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00:17:00.120 --> 00:17:06.759
Itnanthology at gmail dot com. I'll
see you in two weeks, and remember,

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whether in the shadows or in the
daylight, all twisted paths take you

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into the night.

