January 4th
1989
It was a normal day for me. School, then work, and then home. I had just put on a scary movie. Quickly running into the kitchen and grabbing my popcorn before it burned, I sat down on the couch to relax. Parents? Not home. Siblings? None.
At about 20 minutes or so into the movie, I had to use the bathroom. After doing my business, I went back downstairs. However, the tv was turned off. Assuming Dad came home early and was in his room, I went up to my room and flopped down on the bed.
“Good night Dad!” I called out. There was no answer.
Must be asleep. Putting my head on the soft pillow, I heard something moving downstairs. I jolted up, and ran to the door to lock it. Sitting back down on my bed, I pulled the covers up to my face thinking I was just being paranoid from the movie. Then something crashed right outside my door.
Grabbing my baseball bat from when I played two years ago, I unlocked the door. Expecting something to be there, I stepped forward cautiously. The vase from the stand in the hallway had fallen over, and the window at the end of the hall was open.
I closed the window and turned around, hearing something in the living room. Stepping down the stairs carefully, I peeked around the edge of the wall. Something was hunched over and moving the stuff on the table around. I hid behind the wall, breathing heavily.
“It’s just a dream, I’m not awake and I need to wake up now!”
Peeking around the corner again, it was still there. Except for the fact it was staring right where I was. I hid around the corner again and closed my, going into full panic attack mode. I could hear it breathing and feel it’s presence right in front of me.
I opened my eyes, looking at the thing in front of me. It was NOT human. Closing my eyes, I repeated the words “it’s just a dream” over and over again. I opened my eyes slightly. It was gone. I checked around the corner, wasn’t there either. I sighed in relief, then heard something behind me. Turning around, I stared into the eyes of death.