A/N: listen to while reading this please and thank you
strangely normal house, that's all it was. It looked healthy and smelled nice due to the very messy but beautifully kept roses near the front step. No one bought the house, even though it seemed nice, and there was no visible damage. At least I don't think there was.
I walked outside my house. I only live across the street from the strangely normal home. I saw a bloody handprint on the front window. I panicked and grabbed a nearby person, asking if they saw it as well. All they did was look at me as if I needed to be in a mental hospital..maybe they were right. After that, I ran inside and locked my door. I had a bad feeling about this. I sat on my knees, on my couch, and up looked up out my beige window near the front door. I saw nothing. Everything looked normal and seemed fine. I chalked it up to just losing sleep the night before because I had watched a horror movie with my boyfriend.
I decided to go outside once again to check my mail. Once I got to the mailbox, just down the small gravel driveway, I looked up at "the house" once again, but I saw nothing. I grab my mail and walk inside my place. Then my phone rings. Out of curiosity, I answered it, but I don't recognize the number. All I could hear was static. After a couple of seconds of static, I hung up, assuming it was a prank call or just nothing. The rest of the day passes calmly as I clean my house. At around five,five-thirty, my boyfriend came home, a little later than usual. "How was work, babe," I ask as he walks in through the door. I was flipping through channels on TV.
He shrugs as he sits down, cuddling next to me. "It was ok." He works as a middle school history teacher. Some days he is just tired, and others he is somewhat energetic. Tonight was one of the nights he was just too damn tired; it's honestly adorable.
A few hours later as I and my boyfriend were dozing, he quickly sits up and quietly, but frantically, asked me if I heard that. I slowly sit up and hold on to his shirt tightly, burying my face into his chest being the scaredy-cat I am. I timidly and nervously ask him if he's joking. His eyes fixed on the doorway past our front door that leads into the kitchen and the backdoor.
My boyfriend just slowly but sternly shakes his head, his eye still fixated on the doorway. My boyfriend starts to slowly get up, but before he can make it fully off the couch I grab tightly onto his shirt " baby.." I wine, almost like a little boy not wanting his parent to leave the room cause he's scared of the dark.
My boyfriend looks me in the eyes softly, cups my face in his hands, and calmly whispers, "Hey, hey, hey it's gonna be ok im gonna go see what it is then I'll be right back". My boyfriend looks at me when his soft hazel eyes. Then slowly stands up and quickly moves off our light brown couch, almost not making a sound. I look at him nervously; debating if I should get up. Even though my entire body is telling me to stay on the right where I am, I slowly move over close to the doorway of the kitchen, right behind my boyfriend.
" what are you doing," my boyfriend asks in a rushed and worried tone, his eyes never leaving the back door. His hand tightly grips a baseball bat we had sitting
next to the light blue almost white door frame of the kitchen." whenever someone says "ill be right back"
in a situation like this, they normally die" I say in almost a loud whisper. Before I can get another word out my boyfriend puts his finger to his lips motioning for me to be quiet. I nod my head and slowly look over to the back door which my boyfriend hadn't taken his eyes off of sense he began standing in the entry way off the kitchen. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw I shadowed figure standing on the back porch. The only thing illuminating it was the porch light we always kept on. It looked taller than your average man. Whatever It was, It looked as if it was about to leave the porch.
Just as my boyfriend took a step forward onto the black and white tile floor, the clock on the far left wall chimed loudly. The clocks loud chimed told us it was midnight. As I heard the chime as loud as the day I yelped in terror signifying to whatever was on the porch that we were inside and alive...
