A Scream in the Night

I awoke to a howl of pain this morning. Early morning that felt like the middle of the night. Three-thirty. I leapt out of bed and hit the lights. With my heart beating a hundred miles an hour, I scanned my room but found nothing.

My mom burst into my room. "What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes full of fear.

"You heard that?" I asked. That was the first time anyone else had mentioned anything about these hauntings.

"Of course I heard it. You screamed loud enough."

"It wasn't me," I said. "It woke me up, too."

She looked at me, worry etched on her face, until her eyes went wide. "You neck. Look at the scratches." She came over and ran her hand across my throat. "Did you do that?"

I shook my head. I had no idea what she was talking about. "I didn't do anything. I was sound asleep and the scream jolted me out of bed."

She pulled me to the mirror above my dresser and pointed. A long red scratch ran from ear to ear across my throat. I hadn't felt anything, but now that I saw it, it stung. Mom must've realized by my reaction that I was just as shocked as her. She frowned and said, "You had a nightmare and scratched yourself. We'll check it in the morning to make sure it's not infected or anything."

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me to try and get some sleep. As soon as she left, a heavy feeling of dread washed over me. The evil man flashed into view at the foot of my bed. He was there and gone in only a second, maybe two, but in that time I saw the crazy look in his eyes and a large knife covered in what looked to be fresh blood. If he'd been staring at me, I wouldn't have stayed in my room, but his attention was focused on the spot where I usually saw the kids. When he vanished, so did the wave of depressing air. The adrenaline coursing through me abated, and I fell into bed and slept until my alarm went off.

Mom offered to let me stay home from school today, but I didn't want to be alone in the house. Not today, anyway. Weak, I know, but that's how I felt. Thankfully other than the knocks I'd grown so accustomed to, the rest of the day has been quiet.