How to Over Describe Random Sentences

Over describing a door

{This Chapter is dedicated to Eleanor}

I wake, peering through the darkness at my open door. I grab my torch from the table, pushing back the covers and walk over to it. Its white paint smeared across the smooth wood, and its unique carvings embedded into the wood. I grasped the cold, gold painted handle, twisting the knob and closing the door. I turn my back, walking to my bed. I was just about to turn my torch off, when I heard a familiar creaking. I spin around to find my door ajar once again. I walked the families walk to my door, closing it again, but I paused, listening to the scratchy breathing on the other side. A shiver rolled down my spine, as I continued listening to it. I felt like crying out for my parents, but then the realisation took over me. They weren't here. And neither was my brother. I was alone. I felt a slight vibration as a scratching noise was heard, followed by heavy footsteps down the hall. I open the door and shine my light down the hall, just in time to see a tall figure dash around the corner. I then move the beam of light to my door, where the white paint had been replaced by a long scratch mark, flakes of paint scattered on the floor. I close the door again, only to hear the one in the other side open.