Friday, January 29, 2016

Night Terrors: A Children's Short Horror Story

It's back again. In the hallway, outside my bedroom door. I can hear it breathe.

It keeps pacing back and forth, stopping next to my door for a few seconds, then shuffling towards my parents' room at the end of the hall.

This is the third night in a row. My parents didn't believe me the last two nights. They never believe me, why would they start now?

I asked Rachel if I could sleep over but her parents are in the middle of a divorce. I don't know why that means I can't stay over for a night, but whatever. It's just my life on the line here.

It's silent now. Somehow that makes it worse.

Maybe I need to confront it. It's probably just the wind or something. If it's gonna kill me, it could probably break the door down anyway, so might as well see what it is.

But my bed feels safe. My blankets feel safe. Keeping my door closed feels safe.

Even though there's no lock.

Ok, my bed is feeling less safe.

There's the shuffling noise again! It's right outside my door!

Silence. These blankets feel extra thin.

I can't take this. If it's gonna come in, come in already!

It's moving back to the other end of the hallway. Now is my chance to see what it is, if only I could move.

Focus. Start with one foot. Swing it over the edge of the bed, and hope that whatever is making that noise doesn't have any friends waiting under there.

Ok. Move!

My left foot finds its way over the edge and hangs there, waiting to be ripped off. Nothing happens. There's a chill in the air.

Move the other leg and sit up. I'm almost there. Put each foot in a slipper. Grab the phone my parents finally bought me and use the screen for a light. See mom, this phone could save my life!

Or end it, if the beast or whatever sees the light.

Turn off the phone, jump back in bed.

This is stupid. I'm not moving another inch until morning.

Except now I have to pee. That's just perfect. My phone said 4:12am. No way can I hold it until i have to get up for school.

My brother would just pee in a used bottle in his room. Boys are so lucky. He's probably fast asleep right now or playing one of his video games with headphones on, clueless to what's happening right outside his door!


Am I the only one who can hear this thing? Does that mean I'm the one who has to do something about it?

Even though everything in my body is telling me not to, I swing my legs over the edge and stand up. I have to face this thing.

It takes forever to tiptoe to my door, enough time to change my mind and change it back like 100 times. The only thing keeping me going is my full bladder about to explode.

When I get to the door, I put my ear to it like in the movies. I hear nothing. Maybe it left? Maybe there was never anything there. Am I crazy?

If I'm crazy, I should be able to open the door because there's nothing there. But if there is something there, I'd have to be crazy to open the door.

But if I don't open the door, I'll have to pee in something here in my room, and then I'd be really crazy. Like my brother.

Ok, I'm going out there.

The doorknob makes a deafening noise as I turn it. I never noticed how loud it was before. When there's a small crack between the door and the frame I try to peek out but can't get a good look.

I push it open ever so slightly. Now there's a good inch or two to look out and I see...nothing. The hallway is pitch black. Nobody believes in nightlights anymore. I start to push the door again with my pinky when I hear something that sounds like panting.

I'm under my bedsheets before the door closes shut behind me.

But now it knows I'm here! It must have heard me slam the door.

Of course, I'm sure my parents didn't hear the door slam. And if they did, they'll probably yell at me tomorrow morning, when I'm a half eaten corpse. I can't...

There's a scratching at the's trying to get in! I should have never opened the door!

The beast is still scratching at the door. It must not have thumbs, or maybe it can't turn the door handle.

I gotta find a way out of here!

I'm only on the second floor. Maybe I can make a rope out of my sheets and climb out.

My fear keeps me motivated and I quickly, but silently, move to the window.

I could probably survive the fall without serious damage.

Better than dealing with whatever is outside my door.

Just as I start to push open the window, the scratching at my door starts again.

Before I can let out the shriek that my entire body wants to let out, my left leg is hanging out of the window sill.

Then my right leg. I'm sitting on the sill with the lower half of my body hanging outside. I start to turn around so I can slowly let myself down.

Even though I'm terrified of the beast at my door, I'm an idiot because I look at the ground below and now I'm terrified of the fall.

What's a worse way to die? This is not a thought I ever wanted to have at 12 years old.

My body is still balanced on the window sill as I hear a low grumble from outside my door.

It's getting angry!

I slowly lower myself, hanging on to the window sill with all my might.

I look down again and this time I feel like I can make the drop.

Soon it doesn't matter because my fingers slip and I feel the same sensation I felt on my first roller coaster ride earlier this year.

Except this ride is over before I get the urge to puke.

Instead, I hit the ground, and then...darkness.


As the sun's rays start to peek out, I struggle to open my eyes.

I feel the damp grass underneath me.

I'm in my backyard, directly under my window. From this angle, I realize how dumb I was to think I could make the drop.

As I silently yell at myself for being so stupid, I hear panting coming towards me rapidly.

I don't know whether its the pain of the fear keeping me from bolting, but I'm stuck where I am.

I squeeze my eyes tight and wait for my fate.

After what feels like a lifetime, or one of my brother's video game sessions, I feel the Beast's presence directly over me.

Staring. Waiting.


I feel something warm and wet slide across my face, over and over.

I put my hands to my face and push away whatever it is and I feel giant teeth covered in saliva...then fur...and big, floppy ears.


My uncle's St. Bernard continues to lick my face as I try to push it away and slowly sit up.

My head is pounding, but I can't help laughing.

Biscuits, the Big Bad Scary Beast, is staying with us for a week while my Uncle Rob is on vacation.

I wish I had made that connection in the middle of the night.

"Good boy."


I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

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