Random Short Stories / Weird Dreams I Have

Prompt: Rain, Trick, Tomatoes

        I watch the rain pour down from the front porch. I raise my arm into the rain, and the droplets pelt my skin.
        "Harriet, cover the tomato plants while you're out there! They'll get washed out, and you should make yourself useful for once!" my father shouts from inside, no doubt being a lazy bum himself.
        I sigh, walking back inside and grabbing my shiny raincoat and boots, both the color of ripe tomatoes. Slowly carrying them one by one, I bring six deep buckets. I make sure that my hood is securely on my head, and lug the first bucket out to the garden a few yards in front of our shack of a house. Heaving the bucket up, I carefully place it over a tomato plant, the mouth of the bucket to the ground. I repeat this five more times, until all of the plants are covered and I'm out of buckets.
        When I get back up to the porch, the open door swings shut, and I hear an particularly faint clicking sound, signalling a locked door. Someone had closed and locked the only door into our house. I walk towards one of our windows, but the lights inside turn off and the curtains quickly slide shut. I run back to the door and slam my fists against the hard wood. No answer. If my father was anywhere inside, he didn't show it.
        "Dad!" I shout, knowing it's useless. The walls and doors are thick, and the rain is too loud for anyone to hear anything from inside.
        The sound of a puddle being stomped in erupts from behind me, and I turn around. There was nothing there. I could've sworn I saw a dark figure in my peripheral vision standing in the path from the porch steps.
        "Hello?" I call out. There was no chance anyone could hear through the rain, but it was worth a shot.
        In the same spot I saw the figure, there was an object in a puddle. I slowly walk toward it, not minding the rain anymore. I would have been terrified if it was a silent night. That figure must have been a trick of the light. The wind knocked something loose from a tree, and it landed in a puddle. Perfectly in the center of the path... Something grips my shoulders tightly.