A soft sound, nothing more than a whimper, aroused me from my deep slumber. It was dark out and I had forgotten how I had initially arrived at such a morbid and dull place. I took a look around and realized this dungeon was my room. Glancing at the digital clock beside my bed, it reported that it had just turned midnight.

I reached from my bed to the wall and flipped on a switch. From a lamp in the far corner of my room, light exploded and stretched across my plain white walls. I stretched, yawned, and looked around my cozy cage. Stacked with boxes, my room was quite small. I had about 4 feet to walk around in and 3 of that 4 feet was cluttered with clothing and other small accessories. I shook my head as I started to recall how I made my way to this small enclosure.

It was Friday, the thirteenth of April, and I had just come home from a grueling, tiresome day at school. Without any work of any kind to complete, like any other teenager, I made a run to my bed before my parents bombarded me with chores. I sat there for a good 2 or 3 hours reading a book I had found on my bed.

But something was wrong - I could feel it. I couldn't’t tell what it was; I just knew.

Ah, There it is again!

I could hear a small noise coming from the attic. I looked up at the white wooden trap door in my ceiling. It wasn’t very big, just enough to get a large box through. I strained my ears and could hear a noise every now and then but I couldn't't seem to make out what it was.

Finally, I stood up and the book I was reading clattered to the floor. My semi-favorite book, the one I have read front to back twice and twice again, stared at me from my brown carpet. The story flashed through my mind. "After figuring out the phone had no dial tone, nobody could hear him, and the door was sealed shut, the main character chased an annoying noise into the attic". As you may have guessed, he ended up getting eaten alive by a gigantic man-eating bat.

I yawned and decided to ignore the sound in the attic no matter how much agitation it caused me. I picked up my book and sat on my bedside reading for quite sometime until the sound became too much. I threw my the book across the room where it slammed into the wall and landed on the ground with a loud “thud”.

I ripped the phone off the receiver and thought about calling one of my friends, when I realized there was no dial tone. Furious I threw the phone back down and mumbled a few obscene curse words. I shouted for my mother to come upstairs so she could explain why the phones weren’t working but, after about three minutes I decided she probably couldn't’t hear me. I stood up and marched to the door, infuriated at the vexatious phone line. I grabbed hold of the gold surfaced doorknob, turned, and pulled it open. Or so I had thought until I realized that the door was, in fact, still closed.

It seemed like it was sealed shut. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t budge.

“Great.” I said aloud to myself, “Trapped in my own room.”

There it was again. A noise, ever so soft, like a small ‘pitter patter’ running across the attic floor. I couldn't’t bear it anymore; I pulled down the trap door leading to the attic. The wooden staircase fell silently and effortlessly to the floor as if someone, or something, was expecting my arrival. I flipped up the attic light switch and the attic brightened. Halfway up the stairs, the light switched off again. Dumbfounded, I cursed the fact that nobody ever replaced the bulb upstairs. I turned around and vaulted off the makeshift stairs and onto my bed - my favorite past-time. I bowed to an invisible crowd.

I quickly grabbed my flashlight, for the sound in the attic was getting louder now, and raced up the attic stairs. I flicked the flashlight on and could feel the air getting colder and colder as I reached the top step. I looked around the attic and saw nothing but boxes and more boxes. Then something made me freeze. I stood there, not moving like a statue. Suddenly, I was thrown threw the air and landed deeper in the attic. My flashlight soared out of sight. I jumped to my feet just in time to see the attic door shut, plunging me into complete darkness.

The sound seemed so much louder now. That quiet 'pitter patter' sounded more like footsteps - or better yet - hooves. I shook my head in confusion as I felt cold breathing on the back of my neck. I whipped around and it was gone.

“Stop toying with me and show yourself!” I screamed into the darkness, more fear than bravery echoing in my cracking voice. As if my demand was heard, the lights flickered on. My eyes searched every nook and cranny. I turned around back and forth but I saw nothing.

After I thought the sound was , that it was all a bad dream, a loud noise came from directly behind me. I turned around slowly to meet my fate. Even with my eyes shut tight, I knew it was all over. I couldn't’t take it! I couldn't’t take the suspense! Just the thought of dying here, now, scared me. Everyone would wonder how I died. Or would they? Would they come up to investigate the attic and die as well? How many other innocent kids have died doing the exactly same thing that I am doing now? No, I cannot let this happen again.

After a few seconds I forced myself to open my eyes. I tried to lift my arms up to fight but I was frozen in fear. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut again as my eardrums started exploding and pain shot through my body. I cried out and fell to the as an unearthly creature galloped across the attic singing its defeaning war cry.


“My Little Pony! My Little Pony! Isn’t the world a Happy Place!”

Yes… that day, I lost my dignity and my pride to a small pink pony with a rainbow on its butt. So when you’re alone in your house, and you hear a noise coming from your attic... RUN! Run far away and never look back… but more importantly…


BE afraid… Be VERY afraid…