There is something inside my house.
It was late winter night. It was dark far too early this time of year, making me sleepy earlier, my brain thinking that it was closer to 9pm at 7pm. It didn’t help that I was in the reeds of high school. Waking up at 6am, then seven hours of loud kids, hard classes, and boring conversations made me exhausted after school.
Today was like no other. When I got home from school, my mom wasn’t home yet. She worked long hours and would be home around 7pm, then we would make dinner together. Before I started to chip down my seemingly never ending pile of homework, I wanted to take a nap. I set my alarm before my mom would be home and went to sleep.
I had been having strange dreams over the past few weeks and tonight was no different. This time I was looking through my bedroom window at me. I was laying in bed sleeping, just like how I was before I fell asleep. I had been having similar dreams to this. I was always looking inside my house, creeping around the property. In the first dream I was looking over my neighbors fence to my backyard. Slowly as the days passed, I had gotten closer and closer to my house. The weird thing about these dreams was that I never felt like myself in them. It was like I was viewing the world through this things point of view.
I watched as this thing crept around my house, looking through blinds, curtains, and any window it could look through until finally it tried to open one. Trying the kitchen window first and then finally the back door. Unfortunate success. Right as it stepped foot in my kitchen, I was ripped from the dream.
I awoke many hours later. Far later than I thought I would have. I woke dazed and confused, like I hadn’t been in my body while sleeping. I felt heavy, like my limbs weighed pounds. Shoot, I thought to myself, I must have slept through my alarm. It was past nine o’clock at night and I wondered why my mom didn’t wake me up when she came home.
After giving myself a few minutes to wake up, I thought that I would just do my homework, not really feeling hungry. I went to my desk and started on my work. There was this strange feeling in my chest. It felt like a black hole deep in the middle of my chest. The more I tried to ignore it and continue my work, the more it made itself known. It felt like it was growing, the bad feeling just growing and growing.
”Samantha! Dinner is ready!” I heard my mom’s muffled voice from downstairs. The sound of my mother’s voice did not bring comfort to me, instead this bad feeling grew. There was something strange about this, other than the horrible feeling inside me, it was late and my mother never cooked this late. I stood up and opened my bedroom door. I was not met with the smell of dinner when I stepped into the hallway. I froze when I heard my mother’s voice from the end of the stairs.
”Samatha! Dinner is ready!” I heard her again, louder this time but in the same tone as before. My mouth went dry before I spoke. “Coming!” I shouted back, finding my voice. Something else strange was that my mom never called me Samantha, most of the time it was honey, Sammy, or Sam. I was only told that when she was upset, she sounded happy and cheerful right now.
I finally moved again, desperately trying to shove the gaping hole of despair that I was feeling deeper down. It was dark in the hallway as I passed my moms bedroom. I didn’t have a moment to react when a hand from the darkness of her room came out and grabbed my arm, yanking me into the bedroom. I was met with my mothers terrified face. She was pale and I could feel her nails digging into the soft flesh of my arms, leaving small crescent moons.
“That’s not me.” She said with a weak whisper. Her eyes were wide with fear. We quickly looked at each other and the hallway when we heard footsteps moments later. “Samantha!” The female voice said as it climbed the stairs. My mom and I dove under her bed quickly.
That is where I am now. There is something in my house and I can hear it. After it ransacked my room, the voice and being morphed from my mothers to something evil. I heard it change, sounding wet and crunchy, flesh and bone ripping and breaking as its form changed. I can hear its heavy steps in the hallway, making the floorboards creak. I think it has stopped, there is a shadow in the crack of the door.
