I told them what I saw the same night it happened. My voice shook, but I said every part just as it had unfolded. They sighed, exchanged looks, asked me again more slowly, like I was confused. Then they told me it was a misunderstanding. A child's imagination. By morning the adults were laughing again and I was the only one still afraid. Years later, the truth surfaced through someone else ' louder, older, believable. No one ever apologised to the child who tried first.