It’s late at night. It’s dark in the house. Obviously you know your way to the fridge. You  decide to make yourself some warm milk for a good night sleep.
The microwave whirls and buzzes as it comes to life for about 2 mins. Then “cling”..your milk is warm enough. You unplug, then make your way toward your room.

As you are to enter your room, a muffled sound startles you. You turn, rapidly glancing left and right. Your mind starts racing…’what was that?’. Then once hear it. That second time sends your heartbeat racing (Go easy fella, remember what the doctor said).

You decide to put down the milk before you burn yourself. Blindly you start looking for any heavy thing. You find the broom(well.. it’s better than nothing, right?).

You hear the noise again…Some thumps…then scratches…followed by more thumps…   For the life of you, you can’t figure out what can make such kind of noise. The noise seems to be coming from the back door. You approach slowly, barely tip toeing. You grab your phone from your pocket, and punch in the emergency number; ready to dial at moment notice.

Thump…thump…then more scratching… 

You notice the back door slightly moving. A shadow is visible from under the door. It seems to be trying to force the door. You light the kitchen in the hope it will scare the “assailant”. It stops for a couple minutes. Then it starts again more vigorously. Fear grips and grabs every bone and muscle of your body. You can’t even utter a word.. You try but nothing comes out. Except a hissing sound.

You summon the very best bravery you have in your guts… And make great strides towards the door, before you change your mind.
Half way there, you turn back. Your legs seems to be having a mind of their own. They want to hide under that bed.. But you decide to go. Your brain has decided… the hell with it. You slowly grab the doorknob.
You imagine how you are going to swing that broom at the same time you open the room. The plan seems feasible.. (in your head at least)…. fast…and and hard…u keep thinking

And you see it.

Reality hits you in the face. All along. It was in your face.

It was your puppy dog..trying to make its way inside the house….hahaha

To answer the question “Why do you write?” – This is why I write…I guess. It always starts with a  thought that i can’t seem to shake off. And it doesn’t go until I open that door. And face my demons.

Thank you for sticking to the end. (This was in the spirit of “Dia de Muertos” and “Halloween”). Hope you enjoyed. Until next time, take care.

*Leave a comment below, for any feedback. That be dandy awesome.