I didn't know what' was wrong with me tonight. The house felt... wrong. Maybe it's just because I'm alone, but I can't shake this feeling that something's off.
I've gotten used to being by myself—Mom and Dad are gone for the week again, and this time, it's like everything's pressing in on me. The silence feels too silent, like it's waiting for something. Waiting for me to let my guard down. Every little sound sends me on edge—creaks in the floor, gusts of wind hitting the window—it all makes me jump.
It's stupid. I'm used to it. But tonight? Tonight's different. The shadows are deeper, the air heavier. It feels colder, even though the temperature's fine. I keep glancing around, like I'm expecting something to... move. Like the house is alive somehow. Or maybe I'm just losing it.
I hugged my knees to my chest and pulled the quilt tighter around me as I sat on the couch, staring at the clock. It's past midnight now. I don't know why I can't sleep—maybe it's the nightmares, or the whispers, or the shadow that flickers out of the corner of my eye. It's hard to even tell if it's real anymore. But it's there. And it's been here. Following me. Watching me.
I glanced toward the hallway. The light from the kitchen barely touched the dark stretch of the corridor. That dark spot, that empty space—it's like it's holding its breath, waiting.
I muttered to myself, "Get a grip, Piper." But that didn't help. The chill in my bones was still there. The feeling of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, kept creeping into my thoughts. I couldn't ignore it.
I turned my eyes back to the corner by the stairs, and for a second, I thought I saw something move—just a flicker of shadow. But then I blinked, and it was gone. I shook my head, maybe I was imagining it. But then came the sound. A creak. Upstairs.
It wasn't in my head. I knew that. I'd checked every room before I sat down. Everything was locked. The house was empty. So what was that sound?
I froze. The house felt too still again. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart started to race. I didn't even know if I should check it out or just stay here and pretend I hadn't heard it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I had to know what it was.
I stood up, the quilt slipping from my shoulders, the cold floor against my feet making my skin prickle. I tiptoed toward the staircase, my body tense, trying not to make a sound. But with every step I took, it felt like the house was louder. Like it was all holding its breath too, waiting for me to break the silence.
Then, out of nowhere, the light above the stairs flickered. Twice. And then it went out completely. The darkness seemed to swallow me whole.
Panic surged in my chest, the air pressing in on me, thick and suffocating. I fumbled for my phone, the glow of the screen a weak lifeline against the shadows that seemed to stretch longer with every second. My hands were shaking so badly that it took me a second to unlock it. I barely managed to steady the phone when the knock came.
A loud, deliberate knock. As if someone had been standing just outside the door, waiting.
I spun toward the front door, heart hammering in my chest. Who could it be? My parents hadn't said anything about coming home early. No one else was supposed to be here. I hadn't heard anyone in the driveway. And yet—
Another knock, louder this time.
I felt the blood rush from my face as I took a step toward the door. My mind raced, heart pounding in my ears, the sound of the knock echoing through the house. I reached for the doorknob, my fingers cold and stiff, but just as I touched it, the door swung open on its own, and I was hit by a gust of cold air, carrying with it the scent of the night.
For a moment, I stared into the darkness. My breath was caught in my throat. The air felt... thick. Like it was waiting for something. Anything.
And then, a voice cut through the silence.
"Piper, are you okay?"
It was Yara. And Maria was with her, standing behind her, both of their faces pale in the weak glow of the porch light. Yara's brow was furrowed with worry, her eyes searching me, while Maria just looked... uneasy, like she knew something was wrong but wasn't quite sure what.
"Yara?" I whispered, my throat tight, almost choking on my own breath. "What are you—how did you—?"
"We came to check on you," Yara said quickly, stepping forward. Her eyes darted to the dark hallway behind me. "You haven't answered your phone. It's late, and you're here alone. Are you sure everything's okay?"
I stepped back from the door, feeling like I couldn't get enough air. My fingers were still gripping the doorknob, like it might keep whatever was in the shadows away.
"I'm fine," I managed to say, though the words felt wrong. My smile was forced, and it didn't even reach my eyes. "I didn't hear the phone."
Maria stepped up beside Yara, looking past me, her gaze lingering on the dark interior of the house. "It's a little too quiet in here," she murmured, her voice soft, like she knew something was wrong but couldn't figure out what.
I glanced over my shoulder, my stomach twisting. The house was still, just like it had been when I first came downstairs. But—wait. The lights. They were back on. The flickering, the darkness—I could have sworn it was real, but now? Now everything seemed normal again.
Was I imagining it? Was it all just in my head? The flicker, the creak, the knock—it all felt so real, but seeing the lights on, the house looking the way it always did... it was hard to trust myself now.
Had it all been a hallucination? Or was I just too paranoid? Maybe it wasn't the house. Maybe it was me.
I swallowed hard, pushing the doubt away as I stepped aside, trying to sound more convincing than I felt. "Okay, come in," I said, my voice a little too light. "I don't know what's up with me tonight. Maybe I'm just freaked out being here alone."
Yara hesitated, her gaze scanning me like she wasn't sure if I was telling the truth. Finally, she nodded. "You sure you're alright?"
I nodded back, though the lie tasted bitter. "Yeah. Just... had a weird moment. It's nothing. Really."
They stepped inside, Yara leading the way. Maria stayed by the door for a moment longer, glancing out at the street, like she, too, felt something wasn't right.
Once the door clicked shut behind them, the house settled back into its stillness, but it didn't feel like it had before. It felt heavier, like the walls themselves were pressing in on me. I led them into the living room, but the gnawing feeling in my stomach didn't go away. If anything, it deepened.
It was quieter now, almost too quiet. But honestly, it felt good that Maria and Yara had come, maybe I was wrong the whole time about how being alone was better, because for me, they are better. But still, the knots in my stomach hadn't exactly loosened, and I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had been out there in the yard was still watching me. Still waiting.