The wind is loud & whiney, causing a chill run down my spine as I cover my head with the covers. A dog howls somewhere & I hear a scurrying noise in the bushes just behind my house. A part of me knows that there is no monster under my bed nor in my closet… but as the banging noise continues, I warily peep out of my covers to see if the closet door would close on its own if i gave it a long, hard look. It doesn’t. With a false spurt of courage, egged by resignation, I get up off the bed and walk quickly towards the closet and close it a tad bit too fiercely. I go ahead to the main door and bolt all the 4 locks. “Hah!” I think. “Now it will take 4 times as much effort for a strange creature to get in”… And then almost immediately, I realize that if someone is already hiding in the house, it would take me 4 times more time to get out. I shudder at the thought. The night is chilly and wet and my feet are cold. I quickly unbolt 2 locks and slip into bed and cover my head with the sheet. The windows rattle and I hear faint knocking. I’m sure I’m imagining it. Or am I?
The window hinge is broken, so that not only can I not close the window, but the squeaky noise is magnified, tonight. The curtains dance in the wind reaching up to me, patting me to join them. I fiercely try to ignore it all. I won’t get up again. But the long flaps of cloth don’t relent. I remove the covers with a sigh, call myself an idiot for such irrelevant fear after years of living alone and take the two steps towards the window to knot the curtains. That is when I see it… a silhouette. I blink and it’s gone. I always had an overactive imagination. But that knowledge does not bring any relief. I look up at the sky. The moon is full & golden and nearer than I had ever seen it… the entire sky was bathed in a surreal red tint, the wind raged, the trees bent as much as they could, so that they wouldn’t break…. I hear the scurrying again… and quickly peer out the window to ensure there is no creature crawling up the wall to enter my home through my broken window. But I couldn’t see. This was futile. I commanded by heart to slow down its pace. I called myself an idiot once again. I finally slipped under the covers, one last time and thought of the kitchen knife under my pillow, a bit worried that I may cut myself in my sleep. But I don’t wonder for long. I slowly fall into sleep… disturbed, almost awake sleep… but sleep, nonetheless.
Outside, the silhouette reappears.