I had never seen a ghost before. But like they say, there’s a first time for everything.
I stood frozen, a hand clutching the wood of the doorframe and heart thumping loud enough to wake the dead. The only other sound I heard was a soft wind rustling the trees.

Darkness enveloped the house and not a single streetlight shone. The only reason I knew something occupied my room was due to my eyes adjusting and allowing me make out a dark silhouette.  It didn’t seem to notice me, instead focused on the photo frames and ornaments on my walls.

A person would scream in such a situation under normal circumstances, I figured. Cry and shout for someone, anyone, to save them from the thing lurking in their home.

I couldn't make a sound.

At that time, it seemed like the 'thing' could only be some supernatural creature – the doors were all locked, the windows clasped shut, so who could’ve gone in? I would’ve heard glass shattering, or even just a door opening in this deafening silence.

My fingernails dug into the soft wood, and I began feeling lightheaded. There was someone in my home. There was someone in my home and everyone was snoring away, ridiculously ignorant of the danger they were all in.

My school once gave us a workshop on situations like this, if I wasn’t wrong. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember a word those police officers had said.

As if matters couldn’t get worse, with my impending doom and all, I could faintly make out the ghost inching its way forward. It must’ve realized I was there. It’s dark figure got closer with each second, until it stood directly ahead of me and I was praying to every deity in existence for safety – or a quick death.

The tense atmosphere was broken by a deep, familiar voice saying, “You scared me!”

My jaw dropped, the anxiety escaped my muscles, and I felt like collapsing from relief. My father! Oh, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind that he, being an insomniac, was awake and prowling around the house!

He chuckled, and quickly explained the matter, but not before interrogating me for being awake in the dead of night.

We had a good laugh over the whole thing, and my father sent me off to bed again, but not before reprimanding me for finishing my homework at this unusual time.

He bid farewell, and I relaxed into my soft bed again, internally laughing at the bizarre experience. This was definitely a story to tell to my friends tomorrow!
It wasn’t until I was on the brink of sleep that I remembered that my father wasn’t prowling around. In fact, he wasn't even in the house.

He was at the hospital, after a nasty bout of appendicitis, recovering from surgery.

When every piece fell together, I realised that I wasn't as safe as I felt a few minutes before.