One evening my mother and stepfather had gone out to some event. I had stayed at home to work on a paper that was due the next day. (I was one of those kids) I spent the whole night working at the desk in my room. To give you a picture of the room, my desk faces a wall and sits next to a small window that's on the same wall, and from where I sit, my back faces the doorway. While I was working, I was wearing a giant pair of headphones I had got for my birthday -the kind that are noise canceling.
My parents left the house around 6:00pm, and the whole time they were gone, I sat at my desk, blasting music through my headphones and writing my essay. Occasionally I would take breaks and watch the rain and lightning outside my window. (We lived in Houston at the time and there was a big storm that night.) I never left my desk.
My parents returned at about 11:00pm. At some point late in the evening I had taken off my headphones, so when my parents came home, (coincidentally right after I had taken off my headphones) I had clearly heard the garage door open and my parents open the door to the house. Security nds after I hear them enter, I hear my mother call out my name. "ADRIAN!!" She screams "WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED HERE?!?!" Confused, I get out of my chair and start walking through the house to them. There's only a small hallway that separated my room from the living room. Due to my rush to figure out why my mother was yelling, I paid little attention to the hall and the house. After a few moments, I get to my parents. My mom looks livid. She's pointing at the floor and yelling, "WAS THIS YOU?! DID YOU HAVE FRIENDS OVER?!" I look down. The carpet was ruined. It's covered in muddy footprints.
I frantically try to explain to her that I have no idea how those got there, that the whole night at my desk, working on my paper. I watch as her face goes from anger, to confusion, to fear. We realize that someone else must have entered the house. Quickly, we scan the footprints, trying to make sense of the situation. It only takes us a few moments to figure out where they start: our back door that we usually keep unlocked. Then we noticed something else. The footprints started at the back door, but none coming back out.
We hear something pounding through our house. We hear the front door get torn open, then slammed shut with a WHAM!!
We all run into he garage and lock the door. My mom starts shouting at the police through the phone. "PLEASE COME QUICKLY!! SOMEONES BROKEN INTO OUR HOUSE!!" After what seems like hours, the police arrive. An officer stays with us in the garage as his partner looks through the house, room by room. His partner told us that it's safe for us to go in. Then she asks us a question. She asks who's room is down the hall to the left. My parents look at me while I tell the officer it's mine. She asks us to follow her down the hall.
As we go, it's easy to see that the footprints weave through my house from the back door. They go through the living room, through the hallway, into my parents room, and then turn around to my room. They stop in my doorway.
The officer points at my door, which I had left open the whole night. On it, in sharpie, was this.
My log
8:47: I see you
8:53: you forgot to lock the back door
8:59: You seem focused.
9:24: Turn around
9:47: Look at me
10:15: Look at me
10:47: Look at me
10:49: Look at me
For nearly two hours, someone stood in my doorway, watching me.
YOU ARE READING
Short Scary Stories
Short StoryThis book contains stories that is perfect for telling at sleepovers. But, beware. These stories contain truths that you may not want to know. Beware. And brace yourself.
