This piece is for the _creepy_pasta profile - Sep 2018 creative writing prompt.
Word count 298.
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There's a stranger in my house, or so I thought, the truth was much worse....
It started small, barely noticeable—something out of place, last night's lasagna missing from the fridge, or little none-essentials vanishing here and there.
I was uneasy, yet, I ignored it—maybe I was just tired, or stressed, and it inflamed my imagination.
Then it escalated. My advice; never ignore your 6th sense. Obscene words spelled with my fridge magnets, things left broken and strewn all over, and then the worst part, I would wake up to insults written on my bedroom walls. Threats to consume me like I did them... But I never did anything wrong? What was left of my courage evaporated at the thought of someone...something, lurking around my room at night. I was wrong to think that was the worst.
One morning I woke up to cuts and bruises on my limbs; blood stains on my sheets and dried blood clotting on my skin. My heart pounded in my ears as every sense of security, every bit of solace, my home had to offer got twisted, the sensation of dread dropped and went to sit heavily in my gut. The intrusion on my privacy, the desecration of my sanctuary...it broke me. How did I not wake up? The thought of someone creeping into my room and hurting me was beyond my comprehension. How did I not wake up?
Defeated, and scared out of my mind I was convinced that placing cameras in my bedroom was the only solutions.
What I saw shook me to the core. A familiar face filled the screen with a sinister smile.
Now, each morning I look in the mirror. "I am not scared of you," I say, that same sinister smile reflecting back at me.
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