Oneshots And Ideas

Scawy owo

The day started off shitty, my grandmother had not woken me up due to her leaving on a three-day trip. Her and my great aunt would leave to another state to retrieve two of my cousins, both the grandchildren of each. I shifted my bedding from the shoddy air up mattress I had been sleeping on for the past months and took my rightful place on the bed as the sole inhibitor. I napped and watched pointless youtube videos, lounging around until five a clock came by. I had been meaning to talk to a friend before he left for camp but I missed his goodbye message. He wouldn't be home for a month.

I finally got out of my room and made myself something to eat, or rather many somethings. With the absence of my annoying, controlling aunt I realized I could stay up as long as I wanted without her scorn. The sun dripped down with me listening to a sort of audiobook series on youtube. I got restless after an hour or so and began walking around, making myself endless amounts of buttered toast - which I usually don't like and immediately did pushups after eating - and retreating to my room for a hair scrunchy - my hair had grown to my shoulders over the months - before scrubbing at my face as I listened to a man piece together a puzzle box. It had since then gotten dark, dark enough to need the lights on.

I plopped myself onto the small love seat between the wall less kitchen and living room, just a few feet in front of the tall island. I had my can of coke in hand as I gazed around the room, looking from the floor to ceiling cabinets of antique dolls and cars or china glasses in the living room to the built-in shelves littered with books to the left of me, my eyes sweeping to the left and just past the support wall outside. I paused. The space to the left and past the wall was the dining room. It had a fireplace and a sliding glass door to the porch and the backyard, where a few yards off was the treeline. I peered out the door and a cold tremor went through my body, though I don't know why. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was outside, just reflecting light from something in the kitchen that fooled my brain into thinking they were eyes.

I continued to watch videos on youtube, getting spooked by the thrilling stories I heard. I finished my coke as the old man married to my aunt got up and left for bed - he was a gentle soul who had the taddest bit of racism and homophobia in him and had been in the army some fifty years ago. I got up to get a new coke, rinsing the can I had emptied and turning to the sliding door. My eyes widened as I stared out the glass. The eyes had moved and multiplied, though I quickly realized that there were only more due to the glass and my positioning in the kitchen. I brushed off the encounter and returned to the couch, coke in hand.

Three stories later and I heard a soft creak and thump, sounds I knew well. Someone was coming up the stairs outside. My tongue dried and I slowly looked to the side, seeing just past a stray chair in the dining room and to the outside. What I saw was unexplainable. No way in hell was there really something out there. But sure enough, a pair of eyes in the darkness illuminated by the light inside my home stared out at me. The angle suggested that the thing had been trying to be quiet as it climbed, the eyes low and looking up slightly. I held in my bile and shriek and got up, quickly dashing the short distance to the glass doors and slamming my fist so hard on the flat switches that my hand ached with the force as both the porch light and the fan above the dining room table flipped on.

My eyes dropped to whatever had been there and I gaped as I stared at the empty space. It was gone. I locked the doors and pulled the curtain down to cover the glass, retreating to my room and drawing blinds over windows as I made my way. I shut the door behind me with a soft click and locked it. I gazed at the bed and quickly climbed in, falling asleep quickly.

I woke up, the tv having shut off to save power sometime during the night. The clock read 3 am and I glanced at the window, the curtains blowing in the soft breeze and fluttering open. I closed my eyes. I nearly cried as I realized my window was open, bile rising again. I slowly turned as if I were sleeping and glanced at my closet. It was slightly open. I held in a shuddering cry as one of my worst fears came to life. I licked my lips and took in the situation. My air mattress and the closet had just a few inches between them. I could get up quickly and push the air mattress to the door and bolt out to the old man's room at the end of the house.

I enacted my plan. I shot up out of bed and pushed the stubborn mattress to the closet and turned to my door, grasping the handle and pulling it. Locked. I fumbled for the lock and opened the door as I heard the twist of my closet door and the push of the air mattress. I slammed the door behind myself and dashed to the other end of the house, where I slept for the rest of the night cowering at the foot of the large bed and out of sight of the door. I woke in the morning with the old man, getting my ass chewed out with curses of how I had scared him and how I should have known better than to bother him and where in my right mind did I think I could sleep in his room.

I shuffled out of his room and wrung my hands as I walked to my own. I took in every detail as I walked, taking a few deep breathes before pushing the door open and stepping back. The closet door was forced open entirely, the air mattress on its side and my bedding wrinkled and dirty from whatever had walked on it. I told my aunt what had happened and the cops were called.

They never found out what had clawed my window open. They never found out what had killed three dogs that night. They never found out what hit my small town.