Stranger At My Door

3. Shadows In The Woods

I made it home in one piece, but the moment I stepped inside, a suffocating weight pressed down on me. The air felt thick, as if the house itself had been holding its breath all day, waiting for something to happen. Mum was already halfway out the door, brushing past me with a hurried, "Hi honey, bye honey," without breaking stride, her keys jangling sharply in her hand.

The door closed behind her with a dull thud, and suddenly, the silence inside felt wrong. Too thick. Too heavy. It crept into every corner, pressing in from all sides. I stood in the hallway, the ticking of the old clock on the wall louder than usual, each second crawling by like a threat. I stared at the shadows stretching down the hallway, longer and darker than they should have been.

Every creak of the floorboards under my feet, every groan of the wind outside was too loud, too sharp. It felt like the house was listening, waiting for something—or someone. A shiver crawled down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. The familiar house, the one that had always been my sanctuary, suddenly felt like a stranger.

My eyes darted toward the windows. The surrounding trees, once comforting and familiar, now loomed like dark sentinels, their bare branches scratching against the glass in slow, deliberate strokes. I swore I saw something move in the shadows, just beyond the tree line. My breath caught in my throat, and my pulse quickened, hammering against my chest.

I had to get out of here. There was no way I could stay in this house tonight, not when every shadow felt like it was hiding something, watching me. My fingers trembled as I grabbed my phone, quickly dialing Amber's number. Each ring seemed to stretch longer, the silence between them unbearable.

"Hey," I said, my voice tight, barely steady when she finally picked up. "Can I stay at yours tonight? Maybe tomorrow too?"

Amber didn't ask questions. She never did. "Course. I'll tell Dad to come get you."

Relief washed over me for a moment, but it didn't last. The house pressed in on me again, as if sensing I was about to escape. I hung up and moved quickly, checking the locks on every door, every window. My hands were shaking, but I couldn't stop myself from checking again. What if something—or someone—had already slipped in while I wasn't paying attention?

The minutes dragged as I waited by the front window, my heart pounding in my chest, every beat too loud in the quiet. My eyes scanned the darkness outside, darting between the trees, searching for movement. I could feel the weight of the house pressing down on me, a cold, creeping fear spreading through my veins. The shadows seemed to shift and twist, and I swore I saw a figure standing at the edge of the tree line. But when I blinked, it was gone.

Finally, headlights cut through the darkness, and I almost jumped out of my skin. Rich's car pulled up to the kerb, and the sight of it was a lifeline, pulling me out of the suffocating silence. I grabbed my bag and hurried out the door, locking it behind me with a sharp click. I glanced back one last time, my eyes drawn to the darkened windows, half-expecting to see someone—or something—staring back at me.

The cold air outside bit at my skin, sharp and bracing, but it felt better than the oppressive weight inside. I slid into the car, tossing my bag into the backseat. The smell of leather and Rich's aftershave was a welcome distraction.

"Hello, darling, how are you?" Rich greeted, his voice warm and steady.

"I'm good," I lied, forcing a smile that felt too tight on my face. My hands were still cold, and my chest felt tight, the anxiety from earlier refusing to let go. I glanced in the side mirror, watching the house as we pulled away, but nothing stirred. Just shadows. Just my imagination.

"How's dance going?" Rich asked, his casual conversation helping to ease the tightness in my shoulders.

As we talked, the hum of the engine and the familiar roads passing by started to calm me down. The countryside blurred in the dark, the trees bending over the road like silent watchers, their branches swaying in the wind. I tried to push the tension out of my body, but the unease from earlier still lingered, a shadow lurking in the corners of my mind. By the time we reached Amber's house, I could breathe again, but the tightness in my chest remained.

"You girls need to start driving yourselves soon," Rich teased as I got out. Amber and I had turned seventeen last summer, but neither of us had been in any rush to get our licences. It seemed like a luxury, something for later.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get around to it," I laughed, though the sound felt hollow.

Amber greeted me at the door, her bright blonde balayage hair bouncing as she pulled me into a hug. Her signature feather—turquoise and silver—hung from a small braid just behind her ear, swaying as she moved. The warmth of her house hit me instantly, a mix of fresh laundry and vanilla candles. It was a stark contrast to the cold, lifeless air that had clung to my home.

"Finally!" Amber said with a grin. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."

"No chance," I muttered, shaking off the last of the chill. Her smile lit up the room, and for a moment, I almost forgot about the shadows creeping in at home.

But the tension didn't fully leave me, even as we tried on our Halloween costumes and laughed at Amber's dramatic poses in front of the mirror. I tugged at the hem of my skeleton maid outfit, eyeing the too-short skirt while Amber examined herself in her zombie bride get-up.

"I feel like a monster," she moaned, pouting as she twisted to look at herself from different angles.

"You look amazing, and you know it," I replied, trying to focus on the moment, on the normalcy of it all. But my mind kept wandering, kept drifting back to the house, to the figure I thought I saw in the trees.

We stayed up late, talking about nothing and everything, but there was an edge to my laughter that I couldn't shake. Even when I closed my eyes, lying next to Amber under the safety of her roof, my mind wouldn't stop replaying the events of the day. The shadows. The feeling of being watched.

The next morning, the unease was still there, lingering like a bad taste in the back of my throat. As Amber and I prepared for the party, her endless chatter helped distract me, but I couldn't fully shake the sense that something was wrong.

When we finally arrived at Gregg's party, the chaos hit me all at once. The thumping bass, the roar of laughter, and the thick, smoky air enveloped me as we stepped inside. Gregg's house was packed with people, the rooms dimly lit by flickering candles and fake cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. It should've felt fun, but something was off. The shadows were wrong—too deep, too dark.

I kept scanning the crowd, my heart speeding up every time someone brushed past me, the sensation too sudden, too startling. The smell of sweat and cheap aftershave clung to the air, mixing with the smell of something metallic, like blood.

"Let's grab a drink," Amber said, pulling me toward the garden. Her voice was light, but I barely heard her over the pulse of the music.

We walked through the crowded kitchen and out into the garden, where people were scattered, smoking and laughing in the cold night air. The trees surrounding Gregg's house seemed even darker now, their branches stretching toward the ground like crooked fingers. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise again, the feeling from earlier creeping back in, stronger than before.

As I stood by the drink table, something made me turn. My eyes scanned the darkness beyond the garden, and my heart lurched. A figure stood just beyond the tree line. Tall. Still. Watching. My breath caught in my throat, and my vision blurred for a moment.

I blinked, and the figure was gone, swallowed by the shadows.

"Sam? You alright?" Amber's voice snapped me back, and I realised I was gripping my cup so tightly my knuckles were white.

"Yeah," I breathed, forcing a smile that felt as fragile as glass. "Yeah, I'm fine."

But as we moved back into the house, I knew I wasn't. Something was wrong. Something was watching. And no matter how hard I tried to shake the feeling, it clung to me like the shadows outside.