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Alone in the house, I looked out the window and saw only bright, white light. A sharp knock rang through the whole house. Only a shadow could be seen from the window, so I opened the door a tiny crack and saw nothing there except the shadow. Quickly, I shut the door, but it was too late. Even a sliver was enough to let in the shadow. It seeped through the cracks in the door like oil and flowed across the floor. It clouded my sight and consumed everything in its way. I wanted to scream and cry out for help, but the words were stuck in my throat. Besides what could possibly save me from this shadow? My heartbeat thundered in my ears and my body froze, the entire house was engulfed in black. Through the mass, a person-shaped light emerged. My heart stopped. My ex-wife came towards me. In a hushed voice she asked “Are you ready?” I stared wide-eyed and shook my head. She smiled a sinister smile and her eyes gleamed black. In her hand she held something I couldn’t see, but knew could not be good. The sounds of sirens and my own heartbeat filled my ears as my ex-wife lifted a knife in the air. I held my hand up to my face to shield my eyes from seeing what she would do to me, but that was a mistake. A sharp pain shot through my hand and I looked to see blood seeping from my hand. Confused, I look towards my wife, she came closer to me still and in trying to back away I tripped on something that wasn’t there. She bent over me and spread my blood on both of my hands. She then took my hand and rubbed the handle of the knife on it. With my hand around the knife that has my blood on the handle, she did something that made me freeze, unable to move even if I wanted to. She stabbed herself in the gut with the knife. The thundering of boots filled the ever-growing noises in my ears. The door was broken down and people I couldn’t see ran forwards. My ex-wife was lying on the floor, a stab wound in her gut bleeding profusely, but she wasn’t dead. I knew she would never have killed herself, that was not the point of this. What troubled me was, what was the point of this? I still held the knife. I dropped the knife, the others in the room heard the sound and turned towards me. They figured I must have tried to kill her. People, whom I assumed were police officers, ran towards me and snapped handcuffs around my wrists taking my freedom. I tried to explain what had really happened, but it was too late what had happened, happened. There was nothing I could do except wish that I had never made the mistake of leaving her, but you can see why I did.
Anonymous Alone in the house, I looked out the window. The moon was shining bright, and the stars were twinkling beautifully in the midnight sky. I had always loved nighttime as a child. It signaled the end of another day, which meant I had time for myself. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was always calming, but not anymore. What a shame it is that something I used to love so dearly could become the most dreadful part of the day. My village has been having issues lately. I always knew that they would come. I was the only one who could ever see things for what they really were. I tried to warn people, but they would never listen. Tensions ran high, and the adults were busy acting like children. At first, there was a problem here, a problem there, but nothing major. The issues got gradually worse, but nothing was ever done to stop them. It had all started with simple disagreements, and then it escalated to the segregation of people. I don’t identify with either side. I choose not to get involved, for it is too risky. There are killings now. At first they were scarce but are now a daily occurrence. This dangerous society has shamefully become the new normal. The murderers strike at night, while people from the other side are sleeping. They jimmy the locks and slip past the door. They creep slowly and quietly throughout the house, using the darkness as a means of protection. The murderer will slip into the bedroom, and the only warning is a creak of the door, but by then, it is already too late. There is nothing anyone can do to save themselves, nothing at all. Some will suffocate their victims with a pillow. Some will strangle them with their bare hands. Others are more merciful and shoot the person in the head. At least then, there will be no suffering. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, blinking 11:30 pm, and my stomach churned. It is odd how something as simple as this could cause me so much anxiety. If only there was no such thing as nighttime. If only I could stay awake forever. If only my safety could be guaranteed, and I would never have to face the terrors of the night. However, there are no genies that will emerge from a lamp to make my wishes come true, and nobody’s safety can ever be guaranteed. At some point I must go to sleep, plunging myself into the unknown, and when I do, will I ever see the morning? Oh no! Was that the d--?
Anonymous Alone in the house, I looked out the window. The sky was clear and blue as my brother took our little sister, Lily, to the ice cream truck down the street. I have always hated ice cream truck men, always finding them scary. I rarely let my sister have sweets but my brother insisted. I watched as they walked home skipping with joy all the way to the front door. “What kind of ice cream did you get?” I smiled. “Spongebob!” she laughed with a huge grin on her face. “Why don’t me, you and Jeremy all go to the park and play?!” she agreed and we left about two hours later. As we walked, I noticed the ice cream truck was still parked in the same spot as it was when I was at my window. It had been a long time usually the trucks are only in one spot for thirty minutes, then they leave. As we passed it the man in truck was staring at us with a smirk on his face. It was creepiest thing I had ever seen. 2 am. My eyes open wide. Hearing the ice cream truck outside my house, I realized that was the sound that woke me up this early. I was so dazed my brain did not comprehend what was happening. My heart dropped hearing tiny footsteps run out the house with the screen door closing behind them. Without thinking I ran down the stairs and out the front door, “Lily! Lily stop!!!” She was running at full speed to the ice cream truck man who was calling for her outside his truck. My mind was clogged with questions and blocked with the sound of my feet stopung on the pavement. I heard Jeremy’s following close after. “Lily!” she stopped. She turned around looking at us confused. I was sprinting “Come here, run over here!” I screamed. She listened. Until I saw him. He grabbed her before she could start running and threw her into the back of his truck. My brother ran as fast he could to the truck but it sped away. I called the police. An amber alert has been released since then. It’s been almost a month since this happened. I still look everyday for my little sister. One day when my brother went to work. I was all alone, looking out the window. As I heard the ice cream truck song coming from down the street.
Anonymous I was alone in the house and I looked out the window. Darkness besides the light across the street. I glanced back into the kitchen too see the little light under the microwave. It was 2 am. I started my way to the kitchen slowly then heard a loud bang behind me. I quickly turned around to see a hole in my window. Snow and wind came rushing in. I didn’t think much of it and just taped it up. After all the commotion I forgot why I came down again so I made my way up the stairs. As I was on my way up the stairs I heard a knock on the door. I slowly turned to see my porch light flickering on and off. I made my way down the stairs slowly towards the door. The light stopped flickering. I tried too look out but, darkness. I opened the door slowly but all I could see is the white snow falling down and the cold bitterness on my skin. I tried to just blow it off and forget it so I shut the door and went on with my night. I went back to my room and i couldn’t fall back asleep so I flicked my light on and grabbed my phone. I knew it was gonna be a long night. I kept hearing noises and I knew i was alone my parents were on a trip to Idaho. I was just playing a game on my phone when a call came in on my phone. It was No Caller ID.I didn’t think anything of it and just canceled the call. A few minutes went by then again another call. I hesitated but then canceled. I powered down my phone so it wouldn’t pop up again. I flicked my tv on too watch my favorite cartoon but the news was on and there was breaking news. There was 5 armed men with masks wandering in my location. I quickly grabbed my phone to call my parents. Call failed… 10 seconds later my home phone was ringing all the way in the kitchen. The sound was faint. I thought it was my parents so I ran down to answer it. I picked up the phone filling in the caller with all the details thinking it was my mom. After i stopped to breath I heard, “were coming”. I froze. I ran toward my doors and windows to lock them. It was bad outside so I thought it was impossible for people to be walking out there. It was 3 am now. Devil's hour. I went to go flick the light on and as soon as I did the phone rang. I snapped back to see in the window by the phone was a tall white figure with a black mask on. Lightning struck and he was gone. I backed up only too be pulled outside into the darkness.
Anonymous Alone in the house, I looked out the window. I saw, like every other night in my bedroom, a cold, dark, descending alleyway. I enjoyed watching people pass through by my apartment in my free time. Just the sense of movement brings joy to me. I took a brief glance and continued on my homework. After a few useless math problems, I heard a noise from the ally. I looked. Again, I saw the same bland street struck with pitch blackness. But there was something different this time. The lane was usually bustling with small business owners and pedestrians, always echoing noise off my apartment building. This time, it was silent. No sounds, no animals, no people. Just nothing. However, there was now someone, something, standing alone in the darkness. They were in a hood or some sort of sweatshirt. One thing was for sure though, I could not see their face. It seemed to be invisible, catering to my worst fears of the unknown. The alleyway seemed to morph around the person, blackness growing as if the night were quickening. As if a shadow had engulfed the very place I live. My heart rate hastened. My brain started to ponder the possibilities of who this was, what they wanted, and why they were in my alley. But the scariest part was something I had not thought of. I had not noticed the tilt in the person’s hood, their nonexistent neck poised toward my window. My head craned away from the window for a brief moment, still not thinking that my life was in danger. I snapped back, looking into the same spot the shadow was previously in. My heart skipped a beat, maybe two. It was gone. I looked around the alley and found that it only moved about 10 feet closer. I now felt that my life was in danger. It was too risky to reach for my phone, seeing as it was still looking in my direction. I looked in my window reflection. I could see my phone on my bed a couple feet away from me. I needed to call 911. I stood up from my chair, maintaining eye contact with the shadow. I grabbed my phone and I dialed. “911 what is your emergency?” “There is this man, thing, person, I don’t know what it is but it is outside my window and is inching closer to me. I feel that my life is being threatened.” My hands were shaking rapidly. “Alright, now what is the address of the resid-,” her words were cut off as my quivering hands dropped my phone. I tried to save my phone, taking my eyes off the shadow. I realized what I had done. I forgot the phone and looked back out to the alley. It was too late. The shadow was gone. A sense of relief for a second. I continued to look, however. Then, I heard the long creaking sound of my door opening.
Anonymous Alone in the house, I looked out the window. Houses lined the pristine sidewalk, each with one window lit on the right side. Perfect, like it always was. My husband, George, was out with our two kids, Louise and Alex, to pick up something to eat. I was content, almost too content. I shook the dangerous thought from my head and picked up my book that had been neatly resting on lap and began to read. Alice in Wonderland, my favorite book as a child. My eyes scanned the pages until my eyelids felt droopy and eventually fell limp, sending me spiraling into sleep. "Hello," a voice whispered, familiar yet unlike any I'd heard before. I tried to reply but nothing came of my mouth, it was as though someone hit the mute button. The odd voice continued. "It's going to hurt them." The tone of the voice shook me to the core; I started to shake. I could feel that my body was still on Earth but my mind was long gone, somewhere... terrifying. I reached to grasp my sanity and attempted to pull myself from this mind prison. I woke up, still shaking, the voice ringing in my ears. I stood up frantically, looking desperately around the house for something to keep my mind off those awful thoughts. "They're back," I thought to myself. "No, no. It's fine. I'll just distract myself." An hour passed and soon my kitchen, living room and dining were all sparkling clean. George and the kids arrived later and we ate a peaceful, perfect meal, filled with average conversation about school and politics. "Off to bed," I called to the kids who were sitting in our family room watching the television. They started to moan but I cut them off and told them to be good and go to bed. They eventually obliged and left me and my husband alone. It wasn't long before we fell tired and put ourselves in bed as well. "Goodnight, my love," George kissed my forehead and fell asleep quickly. But I couldn't even bring myself to shut my eyes. The voice, I knew it would come back. Part of me dreaded hearing it again but another part of me, tucked away deep in my mind, yearned to hear it. So I let it win. I dozed off and just as I thought, the voice called out to me. "It's going to hurt them, it's coming to hurt them. It's going to hurt them!" I woke up and looked down at my hands, which were covered in a thick, red substance. I shrieked for laying at my feet were my children and husband, a bloody kitchen knife lay next to them. "You hurt them," the voice called out again, in the tone of a happy child. "You hurt them." I realized too late, that that voice... was my own.
Bela ALone in the house I looked out the window and saw the moon gleaming in the dark night sky. The top of it barely surpases the large pine trees that welcome you into the pitch black forest. I walk back to the couch and let my head rest in my palms. Its been four hours since I last got a call. The doctors told me to go home. It felt as though i was being held captive by my thoughts in that waiting room. Like if I left, it would be my fault if the worst happened. Reassuring me that my husband was stable did nothing to ease the pain. Only awful thoughts ran through my head before I fell asleep. I was awoken by the loud ringing of my phone. “Hello?” “Is this Mrs. Hansen?” asks a monotone voice “This is she” “The bleeding stopped and the bullet was removed from your husbands heart. He's going to be okay” Says the same voice, with no emotion or emphasis. “Thank you” I say with a breath of relief, ending the call. I lay back down on the couch and tears of joy stream out my eyes. I fell asleep for the second time that night, but now with a smile on my face. I woke up to the my doorbell that morning, when i hear the truck engine drive away I get up and open the door seeing that a bouquet of flowers was placed on the doormat. I pick them up and read the card that states, “My kind regards - Staff at Seattle Memorial Hospital” “Well that’s.. odd.” I thought to myself as I closed the door and placed the flowers on the kitchen counter. Visiting hours at the hospital start soon so I get ready and rush out the door. Once i reached the front desk I ask for my husbands room number, hoping he was stable enough for me to see him. “Miss, your husband was released last this morning.” said the same monotone voice. “Remarkable” The receptionist gets up and walks away. At the point I head home with an eerie feeling lingering within me. When I walk through the door, I’m greeted with my husband sitting on the couch. I run inside and instantly fall into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay” I state before he’s interrupted by my phone ringing. “Sorry” I say to him as I pick up the call. “Are you Mrs. Hansen” asks a voice way different from the one i’m used to hearing on the other line. “Yeah?” “I'm sorry. You’re husband didn’t make it. The bullet-” “Is this some sort of sick joke? He's right-” I turn around and realize he's no longer sitting on the couch. I slowly turn back. Now alone in the house, I look out the window and see the man I used to love. Now, with his eyes rolled back into his head, blood coming from his heart, and evil in his smile.
Ivy Alone in the house a boy looked out the window of my family's farmhouse in Northern Illinois. He saw the field where corn used to grow blanketed in snow and a single snowman standing out there. It was so peaceful. He backed away from the window. As he turned around he heard a loud clunk. The air conditioning had turned on. As he went down the stairs he heard groans from the wooden steps underneath him. He walked to the thermostat and examined it. It was set to -10 degrees. “That's weird” the boy said. He tried to adjust it but it was stuck. He walked over to his home phone to call the heating and air conditioning guy. \ The phone was ice cold. He dropped it. It shattered when it hit the ground. The air temperature continued to drop, he could see his breath. There were icicles forming on the ceiling. The boy decided to go back upstairs and grab his jacket. As he put it on he decided to look out the window again. He noticed that the snowman was gone, all that remained was red trail. The sight sent a shiver down his spine. The boy heard another clunk. He thought that the air had finally turned off. Snow began to come out of the vents, slow at first then picking up. The boy was shivering because it was so cold. He looked down at his hands and gasped. They were numb and starting to turn purple (a sign of frostbite). He quickly shoved them in his pockets. He ran downstairs. He neglect to notice the ice on the bottom stairs. He slipped on the bottom stair and hit his head. What followed was darkness. When he woke up he was covered in snow. He shook off the snow and looked around. Sitting in front of him was the snowman, but it wasn’t the one he had seen before. This one knives sticking out of the bottom snowball. It’s coal eyes were staring into his soul. The boy ran. Snow still coming out the vent now at an even faster rate. He stormed up the stairs and into his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it. The snow was now up to his knees. He trudged over to his window and threw open the curtains. Standing outside were lines of snowmen, all looking like the one he had seen downstairs. Blood dripping from their coal eyes, and knives sticking out of their bottoms. All of them just standing watching him. The boy was frozen with terror (pun intended). He slowly looked down and saw that the snow was up to his waist. His feet were numb, and his pants were cold and wet. The snow raising faster and faster had moved up to his torso. The boy couldn’t move. There was just too much snow. As it reached his shoulders he heard a knock on the door. As he turned his head everything turned white.
Anonymous Alone in the house, I looked out of the window. It was a cold December night. There was a thick blanket of snow on the ground. I heard the front door open downstairs, “Hello?” I asked. There was no response. I reached out to get my phone and tried texting my parents but the text wouldn’t go through. I got up from my desk and walked downstairs with my phone and saw that the front door was wide open. My heart started to race. I heard a bang from the garage. My hands started to shake and I looked at my phone again. There was a text from my mother saying she and my father were stuck in traffic and wouldn’t be home for another hour. I could hear my heart hammering in my ears. Then I heard heavy footsteps retreating from the garage and I knew I had to get out of the house fast-so I ran out the front door. My breath formed clouds in the air and I wrapped my arms across my chest. I ran to the middle of the street and looked out to see if any house had a light on. All of the houses were pitch black. I turned my focus back on my house and saw a man standing in the doorway. He was tall with lanky arms. His head was a perfect oval. I squinted at him and he cocked his head to the side. Right at that moment, the moon came out of the clouds and the light reflected off of the man’s face. He had large eyes and a peculiar smile. I gasped and started to run through the snow down the street. Every few moments I would look back behind me to see if he was following me and he just stood in front of my house staring at me. I looked back once more to see that he was . . . gone. I turned back around and there was a house about half of a block down with lights on. It started to snow again so I hurried up and shuffled to the house as fast as I could until I stopped dead in my tracks. The man was dancing in front of the house. He was doing an unrecognizable waltz. He didn’t even look at me, he just kept staring at the moon while wearing the peculiar smile. The house with the light on had it on no more and a woman came out and joined the man. Soon other people came from around the corner and they were all dancing. I started to back up to go to anywhere but here and when I turned around the man was right in front of me. He leaned into me. There was a dark red-almost black color to his eyes. He was so close, our noses were almost touching. I could feel his cold breath on my face when he said, “We all have it. We are all infected.”
Kara Alone in the house, I looked out the window, the car had not moved in the slightest, the dark green Toyota would not budge, it would not roll, it would not fly away like I thought it would have. My frustration shifted into relief as I breathed a breath of air, the cleanest air. The only air that let me think. I tapped the fingers of my free hand on the flooring after squatting down. “Lovely,” I repeated, pride in my voice. I had done the deed, I had done my job, I had done what I needed to do. The leaves rustled and the curtains swayed as I stood up yet again, but was met by the weight of a sack. Ah yes, the bag of something- no, it is something. No, it was someone. I took a confident step, but it would not budge, it did not move in the slightest. The thickly woven sack would not move, my frustration grew, I kicked the sack. I had emptied out all the potatoes in the only sack large enough to accommodate for the size of this thing. I cursed myself, It’s someone, Charles, it’s not just a thing. This is a person we’re dragging. But after all, it was now something, not someone, not anymore. I pulled with all my strength and the sack began to move. I do not remember if it were the onion sack, or the potato sack that I emptied, it was too dark to tell. The sack was rather heavy itself, I am surprised that I am still able to pull it even with the added weight. I pulled the sack down the corridor and down the stairs. I made it to the living room, I collapsed as I looked out the window, the car was no longer there. I jumped up, my legs began to tremble as I looked around desperately. I looked back through the window. The car was there, solid as stone. “You will not play with my mind anymore, Devil!” I yelled, shaking my fist in fury. Yes, yes, he is the coward, ha! How weak. I recollected my thoughts and began to drag the sack again. It became heavier and heavier, I wheezed and heaved per every breath. I heard a lock, no- the lock, jitter. I whipped around, I had now fallen to the ground and were crawling on the floor. My heart sank, “I- impossible! I never fail such a critical task...” The words fell and tumbled out of my mouth, unrecognisable anymore. The lock turned and turned, my fingers dug into the earthy smelling sack. The lock turned and turned, I could not recognise how many turns it had taken already. It finally opened, there stood death. Within an instant he came walking to me, I trembled under him, my face becoming pale. He leaned down and gripped me, his hands slick and wet from rain, “Have you taken your medication today, Charles?”
Kacper |
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