The phone rang many times during the morning, always friends and family inquiring for news of you. I was not as polite with them as I could have been: the phantasm in the hall played havoc with my nerves. I knew that I should not stay, but I knew also that I could not leave, not while that monster was still there. How long it would remain I did not know.
Shortly before noon, I refilled my coffee cup for perhaps the seventh time that morning. I unplugged the phone and sat again by the clock. The phone upstairs rang several times: I ignored it. I stared at the phantasm staring back, talking, whispering. I couldn’t take it: I threw my half-full cup at the abomination. It had no effect.
Family, yours and mine, knocked on the front door. I shouted at them to leave me be.
At supper time, I plugged the phone back in. Shortly after, your father called and asked if I was okay. I lied to him. He asked if I had filed a missing person report with the police. I assured him that I would do so that evening.