Free I Live in Your Basement by R. L. Stine

him to speak.
    It took him a long time. He gripped the banister and held on to it tightly.
He squinted across the gray basement at me, squinted hard as if he didn’t
believe what he was seeing.
    “Who are you?” he asked finally in a small, frightened voice.
    I swallowed hard.
    What should I say? How should I answer?
    I had to think fast.
    “Who are you?” he repeated, a little louder, a little stronger.
    “Uh… you’re dreaming!” I called to him.
    He squinted harder at me.
    “Go back upstairs,” I told him. “It’s just a dream.”
    Would he believe me?
     
     
    Scanning, formatting and
proofing by Undead.