I tried to warn them. Truly I did. Every year since I was seven I’d tell them “The Easter Bunny isn’t a bunny, he’s a man.” And they’d laugh, and tell me not to tell the little kids. As I got older my Dad got mad at me about it. His favourite answer was “do you think we’re idiots?” as he’d point to the rest of the adults. At least it was until last year. Last year I tried to talk to him, tell him the whole story, tell him what I’d seen. And now I’m here. Don’t misunderstand it’s a very nice room but he can find me here, I can’t escape. No, not my Dad. I’m not afraid of Dad. Haven’t you been listening? The Easter Bunny.
He knows I saw him, he knows I saw what he did. The next year I saw him in our yard, if it hadn’t been for the dog barking though I might not have woken up in time to get away. Unlike most seven year olds I didn’t hide under the bed, my Dad bought that house cause of the panic room and I locked myself in for the night. I didn’t come out till I heard my Dad calling me. When he realized where I’d been I tried to explain about the Easter Bunny but he thought I’d just had a bad dream about when Mom died.
Mom? She died when I was six. Well, was killed. The cops called it a home invasion. Everyone thought I was asleep but I heard something and went down to ask Mom for a drink. The Easter Bunny was there. At first I was excited even though he looked awful. Like he was a werewolf caught between his forms only instead of a turning into a wolf, he was turning into a really big bunny. Then I noticed that he had my Mommy’s hair in his hand. Her head hanging from it, her body was on the other side of the room. His mouth was red, dripping blood and gore all over Mom’s white carpet. I hid in the little room Dad had built me, it was originally another room with a door to the hallway but he’d made it look like just wall, and you had to know where the button was to get in there. It was my playroom, and my sanctuary. I heard the man walking down the hall, I heard him sniffing, scratching at the wall but he didn’t find the button. I was six I fell asleep after a while. When I woke up it was to Dad screaming for me.
No, no it wasn’t just a man! It was the Easter Bunny! Why don’t grown-ups ever listen? Look, all I asked for was to be somewhere else tonight. Not in this room. Please. I’m not safe, he will find me here and there’s nowhere to hide. Fine but my blood is on your hands. Just remember that.
I didn’t believe her. Well she was only thirteen after all, and she’d been telling that same story since she was seven. Her father said the death of her mother had traumatized her. She’s been here since last Easter. Her father had her committed, said he just wanted her well again. Well how was I supposed to know it was real? But look, we caught it on the new security cameras. No, I can’t watch it with you. I saw the aftermath and she really was a nice kid.