Fifty Shades of Creepy

The Woman From The Closet

The Woman From The Closet

As a child, I had a huge imagination. Well, at least that's what my parents told me. I remember I loved to play outside and pretend I was a pilot, flying the biggest plane in the world, while in the reality, I was just sitting on the old box and made sounds with my mouth. Or that one time when I wanted to climb the tree in my back yard and build a huge castle. Those were funny and warm memories.

But, every child had fears like it had imagination. Some children were afraid of the spiders, barking dogs or ugly clowns. I wasn't one of those kids. I was afraid of my closet.

But your closet isn't scary, I could still hear the annoyed voices of my parents, trying to understand my fear. And they were right though. My closet was small, painted with fresh white color and had yellow stars on it. Clothes and some toys were inside most of the time. Still, that wasn't the reason why I was scared of my closet. My parents couldn't notice or rather hear it, because it was only happening at night around 2 or 3 a.m., early in the morning when they were sleeping. And you know what I used to hear every night? I heard scratching noises, loud and violent, like something or 'someone' was desperately trying to get out of my closet. I was too scared back then and I had never dared to open the door.

That was just my imagination, I told myself these days. I grew up like every child and went to the collage like most of them. Those scary memories were behind me and I didn't have that fear anymore. The scratching noises stopped a long time ago and couldn't hear them anymore, so I slept peacefully in my same, old bed. Nothing changed in ten years. My room was always the same, just now, it was cleaner and had more notebooks on the desk. The closet stayed the same as well, with those yellow stars and old white paint.

The days got harder for me, since I had more work to do, so often, I stayed up very late. Before closing my eyes, I always looked at my alarm clock which read somewhere between 1 or 2 a.m.. This night was not different. I wrapped my blanket around me, giving my final glance to the digital alarm clock, resting on my coffee table. Not bad, I thought to myself as it showed big, red numbers 01:35. After that, I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the woman covering my mouth and preventing me from getting up. Her hand was covered in blood with countless deep bruises and cuts. That almost made me puke my dinner. Lifting my eyes to her face I realized that her skin was starting to crack on several places as her flesh started to rot. Dark eyes stared at my soul as her black hair tickled my face. I could see a part of her grey clothing, covering more bruises all over her body.

Realizing the situation, I tried to remove her hand and get up by force, but she hissed at me and tighten her grip around my mouth, digging her nails into my skin. Screaming wasn't an option either. I started kicking the air with my legs, mumbling some words, but it was pointless. She lifted her hand in the air, wanting to gain on the speed before she pushed her long nails trough my chest and made a fatal wound. My eyes glanced over the alarm clock which read 02:45, before they closed.

I screamed in agony and terror, only to realize it was just a dream. I was covered in sweat, as my breathing became heavy and fast. Only a dream, I calmed myself down. I was alone in my room, with no sign of an intruder or that horrible woman. Everything was alright.

I looked at my clock, showing numbers 02:43. It was just a dream, I sighed in relief as I put my head back on the pillow. Before closing my eyes, I heard my closet door creak open.

Author's Note: 

You have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this story in the middle of the night with no lights on. I almost died, to be honest. So, tell me what do you think. Especially, were you able to sleep after this? Maybe not (creepy laugh). Anyway, vote and comment.