When you are alone in your home, regardless of the hour, the little sounds of an old house are amplified. Multiplied. Sometimes, you’re almost sure there’s someone else there causing those little noises, but it’s only your imagination overshadowing your semblance of logic. That familiar fight or flight instinct that causes a sickening flutter in your heart kicks in because whether or not you want to admit it, you’re defenseless. The front door with all its locks is just a wooden barricade; the windows purely decorative glass. If someone, something, truly wanted to enter - invade - nothing could stop it.
Don’t let the thought keep you awake at night, when the noises are deafening in the ethereal silence. Just let them lull you into a restless slumber interrupted by intervals of awakening in cold fear. The creaks, the groans, the scratches…the squealing of the hinges on your bedroom door.