Stories to Tell in the Dark

Something Outside my Window

Let me preface my story by saying this: I've never been afraid of noises from outside my window. Ever. Even when I was little, I never had a problem with it. There could be constant rustling in the leaves or the bushes next to the house and I would still be out like a light. Now, that's not to say I've never been afraid of anything coming in the house. That scares me just like it does the next guy. But I've got screens, locks, and an alarm on my window. I never was really afraid of anyone sneaking into my room.

To be honest, though, I never really used the locks or the alarm. I live with my parents, and their room is on the second floor, but mine is on the first. So, sometimes, late at night, I'd pull the screen out of my window and sneak out to be with my girlfriend at the time. I'd be gone for at most 2 or 3 hours, and then I'd return, put the screen back in, close the window, and go to bed. It started out being an occasional thing, but she seemed to like the idea of sneaking out late at night, so I just started leaving my window alarm off and my window unlocked. Why go through the trouble of re-securing everything if I'm just gonna go back out the next night? As the trips outside at night became more frequent, I'd find leaves and dirt on the carpet in my room. It was, at most, annoying. I didn't remember tracking in that much dirt, but it was dark, so I knew I more than likely just couldn't see it stuck to my shoes. My biggest problem was just trying not to get caught by my parents. The window made a horrible creaking noise as it closed, and though it probably wasn't as loud as it seemed to me, my heart started racing every time I heard it. The panic played tricks on my senses and intensified every noise I heard thereafter. I kept thinking I heard my parents' footsteps coming towards my room, but when I'd turn around, it'd be nothing. My door was still closed. I knew I was just getting worked up over nothing, but it stressed me out to no end.

Eventually, my girlfriend and I broke up, and I had no reason to sneak out anymore. To be honest, it was kind of a relief, not having to worry about being caught every night. The first night after the breakup, I fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

I woke up at about 3 or 4 AM to some scratching noise outside of the house. I would've gotten up to look, but it was cold in my room and I was already under the blankets, so I stayed put, hoping I would be able to fall back asleep. When I woke up again, I got up to see what had scratched against my window. My screen was slashed open. By far not the worst thing an ex has done to me, so I shrugged it off and forgot about it.

Next week, I woke up again at 4 AM, and my window was scratched. I'd even venture to say it'd been clawed. In the morning, I showed my parents the window. They both agreed it was probably some animal. We have plenty of coyotes here, and though they'd never heard of them clawing at windows, they figured it couldn't have been anything else. But my window was strong enough to keep it out.

The next night, I woke up at 2 AM. Someone had opened the window. For a brief moment, I just lay there staring at it in disbelief. I didn't open the window- or, at least, I didn't remember doing it. I sighed. I'd have to get up to close it. If it really was an animal that clawed my window, I didn't want it crawling inside. And besides that, it was cold outside. I was about to move, but my bedroom door opened first.

The head that peaked out from behind the door was not human.

I panicked, and my eyes snapped shut. I couldn't erase the image I'd just seen- like a black silhouette, almost a walking shadow, with wide, empty eyes. I hoped it didn't know I saw it. I hoped it ignored me. I hoped it didn't know I was awake. I was trying not to breathe too loudly, but I was so afraid, I was trying not to cry. Panic was again playing tricks on my senses. I wasn't sure if I was hearing my heartbeat or footsteps. It was most likely both. The footsteps got louder, then quieter- closer, then farther. The thing was looking around my room. It got closer to my bed and lingered. I could feel it touching my blankets. I could hear it breathing. I could no longer trust myself to breathe slowly. I just held my breath and waited. The sound of breathing got closer, and I could feel warmth just inches away from my face. And then it left. I heard footsteps leaving. And the creak of my window closing. I started breathing short, shallow breaths, but wouldn't open my eyes. They stayed closed until the sun came up. When I opened my eyes there were leaves and dirt on the carpet.

I never sleep with my window unlocked anymore.

(This story is dedicated to the follower of the week, @anonymous3nope :D)