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Something Goes Bump in the Night
I jerked into a sitting position, sticky with sweat. It was summer and I was under the covers, wondering what I was doing under them. I had just had the most messed up dream of all time, involving a girl dousing herself with gasoline and shrunken heads. I was just about to fall back to sleep when I heard a door creak open. That made me jerk up again. Then I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.
I panicked. I was always worried that there was a ghost or something in my house. I know it’s silly, but whenever I went upstairs from the basement late at night and when all the lights were off, I always felt as if someone was watching me.
“Snap out of it. You’re hearing things,” I thought, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I decided that I was going to stay awake, so if whoever was in the house, entered my room, I could start screaming right away.
Since I was awake, I reached over to turn on the light clipped to the edge of my loft bed. It was really dark in my room and I was starting to imagine that people were sneaking around my room. I didn’t need to freak myself out anymore than I already was. I turned the knob at the back of the light, enjoying the comforting sound of the little click. It didn’t turn on. I tried turning the knob the other way. I tried turning it several ways. It didn’t turn on. IT DIDN’T TURN ON! My eyes got huge and I started freaking out again.
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! OH MY GOSH!!!!! Whoever is in the house cut the electricity!” I screamed inside my head.
Then I realized an embarrassing detail. The light had burned out earlier today when I was reading a book. Feeling my cheeks turn red, I started feeling around next to the lamp for my second resort. Usually I brought my iPad up in my loft bed so I could do some late night games and surfing the Internet. Then I remembered that both my iPad and my cell phone were charging out in the living room. There went my only hope for light because I was not going to climb down from my loft bed. The killer could be waiting for me on my floor.
I sat in the darkness when I heard the door next to my room open up. My brother’s room. I heard a little scuffling. Then there was silence.
“I’m sorry Wesley. I guess that I’ll see you in a bit. Hopefully, we’re going to the same place,” I thought, feeling guilty. I should’ve gone to his room to check on him. We might’ve had a chance if we had banded together.
Again, I sat in the silence, waiting for the killer to enter my room and kill me. Wait. Silence. I hadn’t noticed that my room silent before then. This was a big problem. A very big problem. I always left my radio on, but it wasn’t on right then. I almost groaned. The killer had cut the power. Somehow, my scared factor could not increase anymore than it already had been.
I realized then that the killer was after me next. If they had been working their way down the hallway, they would have gotten both my parents, then my brother, and now me. I laid back down, changing my plan. No one would hear me if I screamed, so I decided to try and act like I wasn’t there. I didn’t think that it would work, but I had to try something.
Luckily, my loft bed was up against my wall, so I scooted closer to the wall. Then the killer couldn’t just knife me. They would have to climb up ladder and hopefully break the bed because my bed had a 300 pound weight limit. The killer would have to be very light to not exceed the limit.
Then I faced another problem. I didn’t know if I should face the wall or the rest of my room. If I faced the wall, I would be exposing my back and the back of my head to the killer. If I faced the rest of my room, then I would be exposing my face and it would be easier for the killer to stab me in the heart. I debated for a few seconds. The plus about facing the wall would be that I wouldn’t have to look at the killer and wouldn’t be expecting the fatal blow. I turned to face the wall.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps coming towards my door returned. I quickly pulled the covers over my head, trying to pretend that I wasn’t there. My door slowly creaked open and I could hear the floorboards creaking under footsteps. I heard the soft tap as a hand grabbed the sides of the ladder. The bed creaked and groaned as the killer climbed up the ladder.
I took what I believed to be one of my last breaths. “I’m sorry mom and dad for being so moody. I tried to be a good daughter. I really did. I’m sorry Wesley for being a bad sister. I know that I always said that I hated you, but I really loved you. I’m sorry all of my friends for the way that I have treated you. I don’t think that I ever really treated you the way you deserved. I’m going to miss you, but don’t worry about me. I’m going to go find out the answer to all the mysteries of the world. I’m sorry grandparents for never really spending time with you. I really should have and now I’m regretting it. I’m sorry to everyone. I hope that you can all forgive me, but now I have to go. I have to die now, but everything’s going to be okay. The Lord is going to take care of me now. He is going to see that justice is done. I’m sorry-” I thought but I was interrupted when the killer started talking.
“Sweetheart, you need to wake up now. We need to go downstairs. There’s a tornado nearby. I’m going down again to make sure that Wesley is alright. It’s time to get up now.”
I whipped the covers off of my head to see my mom climbing down the ladder and exiting my room.