You’re lying back in your bed, curled up into a ball under a mountain of blankets during a school day. Thankfully, your parents let you stay at home while they go out and work. You felt it was too cold to leave the house today and your dad agreed in letting you stay because you’re not one to skip school, so they let it slide this time.
Your mom always gives you good advice for colds and headaches and they always seem to work, so before she leaves, she tells you to let open a window in the bathroom during the afternoon so the wooden refrigerator of a house you live in could warm up since it's much warmer outside than it is inside. You nod and take a power nap after she leaves: you had been worn out since last night, killing yourself to finish an online test as homework and you didn't get much rest afterwards. Your parents are gone during the morning and afternoon so you have the whole house to yourself for a while.
When you awake, you notice your room is warmer. You relax in your bed and whisper a thanks to your mom for her advice. Bored, you spend some time watching TV but that doesn't last long. There's nothing on that will catch your attention and you wouldn't dare get up to use the computer in your parents' room, exaggerating how cold it could be away from the comfort of your bed. You settle on reading through pages from a magazine on the night stand beside your bed. All the while, you hear the sound of heavy curtains hit the window when the wind begins to pick up.
You know it’s just the curtains. You can hear it from the bathroom and see its shadow flapping around yet you couldn't help but let your mind wander and scare you into hearing and believing it’s something else making those noises. You admit to yourself that you’re a bit of a masochist: you enjoy scaring yourself just to laugh at how ridiculous you were being for believing you were in danger.
The noises are getting to you. Each time you hear the curtain hit, you heard a sharp scratching sound coming from the kitchen follow suit. You find yourself curious about this and start growing anxious. You muster the courage to leave the warm bundle of your bed to check the kitchen just to debunk the possibility that someone is in your home. To your relief, no one is there except for you.
Finally, you go to close the window and then head back to bed and try to ease your nerves and pounding heart. Eventually, everything goes quiet and you close your eyes after deciding to get a bit more sleep.
That's when you heard the scratching sound start up again, only this time you hear it get louder. It was getting closer to your room, as if someone was carving into the walls. In a panic, you hide yourself under the covers and pretend to be asleep for whatever is now standing at the foot of your bed. You brainstorm possible answers, but nothing adds up. It couldn't be your mom or dad because even for a heavy sleeper, you have always woken up to the sound of the squeaky front door. You checked the kitchen and no one was there. The living room was empty as well and the front door was still locked under key.
Your heart sinks down to the pit of your stomach. You did not check your parents' bedroom. Footsteps lead up to the side of your lying frame and you resist making any sort of hint that you are awake. Then you feel your blood run cold as another realization hits you over the head like a brick.
You never opened the window.