NATIONWIDE—In a shocking but not entirely surprising development, parents across the country are reporting an alarming uptick in what experts are now calling “nocturnal junior possession”—a.k.a. sleepwalking. These cherub-faced angels by day are reportedly turning into silent, smiling specters by night, haunting hallways, laughing in shadows, and standing at the foot of beds like they’ve just returned from a séance.
“It’s like living in The Shining but with juice boxes,” said Monica Hargrove, a mother of three in Des Moines who woke up to find her 7-year-old daughter standing in the living room at 2:37 a.m., giggling at nothing and whispering the word “eternity.”
“I thought it was a nightmare,” said her husband Jeff, “but then I realized the nightmare had already started and it was wearing a Barbie nightgown.”
Reports have surfaced nationwide of children smiling in the dark, slowly tilting their heads like vintage porcelain dolls, and meandering through hallways like sleep-deprived zombies auditioning for an off-Broadway horror musical. Security camera footage has shown kids aimlessly opening refrigerator doors, rearranging furniture into ancient sigils, and one particularly ambitious child trying to file his taxes using only a box of crayons and a calculator.
“I woke up to my son staring at me from six inches away,” said Carla Menendez of Flagstaff. “When I asked what he was doing, he said, ‘Counting your breaths, Mommy.’ I haven’t slept in 11 days.”
“My daughter just stood by the front door whispering, ‘He’s here, the mailman’s here,’” reported Anthony Giles of Vermont. “We don’t even get mail on Sundays. I checked. I checked.”
“She walked into our bedroom, made eye contact with me, and said, ‘The walls are singing again.’ Then she just left. I didn’t even follow her. That’s how horror movies start,” said Nicole Brewer of Tampa, clutching a rosary and a baby monitor.
“I thought he was getting water,” said Detroit dad Marcus King. “But he just stood in the kitchen staring into the fridge for 12 minutes. Then he laughed, shut the door, and whispered ‘they don’t know we know.’ Who doesn’t know what, Jeremy?!”
Experts remain divided. While sleep researchers insist this is “a completely natural phenomenon,” exorcists, ghost hunters, and one guy named John Martino who runs a haunted hayride in rural Ohio argue that “it’s either a portal to another realm… or just Tuesdays.”
To combat the terror, some parents are installing motion-activated crucifixes, sprinkling bedsheets with lavender and anti-phantom salt, and in more extreme cases, gluing socks to the ceilings to “confuse the sleep demons.”
Government officials have offered little help, with the CDC stating, “We already have zombies in Congress, we can’t afford to investigate child ones too.” Meanwhile, an emergency hotline—1-800-KID-GHOUL—has been established, but so far the only response callers get is a looping sound of children laughing.
For now, parents are advised to keep a flashlight, a sock filled with nickels, and possibly a priest within arm’s reach at all times.
More at 11. Or whenever your child stops humming Ring Around the Rosie into the air vent.
