You storm into your room and slam the door violently behind you. You sit on your bed, put your head in your hands, and close your eyes. You are hit by a gust of wind and the smell of fresh air and you realize your window is open. You're thankful for the fresh air. The dolorous feeling of your bedroom is lifted with the out of doors breeze settling into your bedroom. You try to understand all that has been happening. You try to reason with yourself, tell yourself your parents sending you to bed a lot earlier than usual was a silly thing to fuss about and they most likely had a good reason for doing it. You tell yourself to get some rest, but just as you move from your current position, you hear the yelling from downstairs. This is agonizing. You have no idea what is going on and the urge to leave your room grows steadily. Finally, you give into impulse and quietly open your bedroom door and slip out. As you inaudibly make your way up the hallway and down the small wooden staircase, the yelling gets louder and more clear. You peek through the bars on the handrail and see the TV is on as well. "Goddamn it Frank, we cannot stay here longer!" Your mother yells at your fathert in an anxious and shaky voice. Her eyes are red from crying and her nails have been chewed past the clutch. It's clear she's terrified. 'What about Josh?! Are you telling me you want to drag him across three states to Tommys?!" Your father says. He is also in disarray. His tie undone, his shirttail untucked, his hair askew. Deep bags are very distinct under his eyes. "Barbara, use your head! If we leave, we'll just end up being food to one of those things! But if we stay, we can wait it out until the military rolls through." Your mother thinks for a minute, chewing her already ravaged nails. "What'll we do then?" She asks. "We are sitting ducks right now!" Your father pauses, then talks again in a much lower tone. "You heard what they said on the news. Those things are attracted to dark places. They thrive in them! So we keep this place lit like a goddamn torch." All of a sudden, sharp rapping noises came from the ceiling. Your father pulls his Smith & Wesson from his belt and points it at the ceiling. The whole house is silent for 5 solid minutes. A silence so deep, and so oppressing, you feel like you would fall in if you listened long enough. Finally, your father puts his weapon back on his belt. He looks at his wife, who has tears in her eyes. "Go check on Josh, make sure he's asleep." He mutters. You run as fast as you can back up the stairs and to your bedroom. You quickly climb into your bed and close your eyes. Just as they close, your mother walks into the room. She sits at the foot of your bed, and softly strokes your hair. "We love you." she murmurs. She gets up, walks to the door, and looks back at you. You make your best already-asleep face as she does. She turns back around, steps out, and closes the door behind you. You are now alone in your pitch black room. You lay there, eyes closed, trying to fall asleep. Just as you are on the brink of slumber, You hear a GROWL from under your bed. You freeze, open your eyes, and see the very, obvious, very open window, on the other side of the room.
