| abstract
| - Sleeping undisturbed has always been an issue for me. Even since I was a small child, I’ve always been prone to random disturbances awakening me in the night. Anything from a small shift in the light to my dad getting up to get a glass of water. My house in Scranton, Pennsylvania had very thin walls and almost no insulation, I could hear everything that went on inside the house. Recently I moved into my dad’s new house in Milford, Pennsylvania. My parents split up when I was sixteen and I wanted them to still live close together, so my dad rented a house in Milford, just fifty-eight miles from Scranton. Our new house wasn’t all that great. I hopped out of my dad’s old and rusted truck and looked up towards the yellow two-story monstrosity of a house, almost looking back down towards me. Weeds grew plentiful in the front yard. “Whatcha think?” I quickly turned towards my father, feeling xenophobic of what lied ahead. “Oh, the house? Yeah, it’s decent.” I grabbed my luggage and shuffled along behind my father, who seemed disappointed by my response. I set my luggage down in a small upstairs bedroom, and immediately felt something was wrong. Inside of my room, there was a window, and a closet. I walked over to the closet to unpack my clothes. The door was stuck, the handle wouldn’t turn. A little bit creeped out, I went back downstairs and sat down in the living room with dad. “Dad?” “Yeah son?” It was clear he was still focused on the television. “Is there something strange about this place?” “Uhh, yeah. We live in the outskirts of Milford.” “No dad, besides that. Doesn’t this house just give off weird vibes?” “Not that I can tell.” My father’s ignorance and lack of observance annoyed me, and I went back upstairs to ponder. Night drawing close, I lit a candle and set it on my desk. Feeling curious, I looked out my window for the first time, and saw my dad’s truck parked out in our front yard, a long, curvy, dirt path for a driveway, and an empty, barren street beyond all of that. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. School was starting tomorrow, and I needed some rest. I flopped down on my bed, fully clothed, and began to sleep. I woke up in a cold sweat at 3:04, my alarm clock playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star very quietly and ominously. I stood up and tried to turn it off, but the radio On/Off switch was jammed. Confused, I tried to change the station, but despite the fact that I was turning the knob, the music didn’t change. Frustrated, I reached towards my wall and unplugged my clock, silencing it. I sat back down on my bed, scared and confused. What could cause such a thing to happen? I turned around in my bed, and almost fell asleep, when I realized my candle wasn’t burning. I stood up and re-lit it, and what happened then would scar me forever. I looked up from the candle and frighteningly observed a black endoplasmic mass seeping out of the cracks of my closet, floating in the air, polluting it. It twisted in the air, like a limitless ribbon creepily floating in the air towards all edges of my room. A deep ominous laugh suddenly burst into my ears, unwillingly infiltrating my thoughts. I pressed my hands to my ears, fell backwards and curled into a fetal position. I rolled back and forth, saying ‘It’ll be over soon’ in a synchronized crescendo with the deep, ominous laugh that seemed to be getting closer. Soon enough I was screaming ‘It’ll be over soon!’ My father burst into my room and dropped down on one knee next to me. “What's wrong?!” he yelled. I looked around. Nothing was happening. There was no black mass, no deep laugh, my candle was out and my clock plugged in. Nothing had changed. I took my hands off of my ears and found blood, my ears had been bleeding. I turned around to face my father, who had a look of concern glued on his face. He asked if I was alright and I nodded, showing fear but contentment. He stood up and left, leaving the door slightly cracked. I lifted up my blankets and crawled back into my bed. The next day was difficult. Dad took me to a doctor in New York to find out what was wrong, and of course, mom was worried sick. After an MRI and a physical examination, the doctor said he couldn’t find anything, and recommended that I see a psychiatrist. When we returned home, I sat down at the kitchen table, too afraid to go upstairs. My father and I discussed sports, and how the Yankees were doing this season. After dinner, I got up and put my dishes in the sink, and reluctantly went upstairs, praying that nothing bad would happen. My evening began like the last. I stared out my window, wondering how I ended up in the middle of Miltown, Pennsylvania. It didn’t matter, I was stuck in this demonized house until I turn 18. I turned around to light my candle, and felt a small wave of safety. Maybe it is all in my head. I turned towards my bed to go to sleep. I closed my eyes to sleep, and just before I fell under, I swear, I could hear the slightest whispering. I woke up feeling uncomfortable that night. I turned to see what time it is, but instead of finding the time, I found my room had been stripped bare of everything, save my candle, which sat in the center of my room. I stood up, wondering what in the world could have happened. I tried to open my door, but it was jammed shut. I started toward my window in a panic, and opened my curtains to find my window boarded over. Everything was too far too quiet, in an ominous way. What could be happening? I turned around to keep trying with the door, but the image that faced me stopped me dead in my tracks. I stood still, trembling. Barely a man, this figure had an excessively large torso, long arms, and a narrow face. Its skin was yellow like urine, and it smelled salty, like blood. His eyes were white with no iris, and he had blood dripping from his mouth with razor-sharp teeth. It stared down at me, hosting a homely dead appearance. It turned around and started towards my closet, giant steps thudded on my floor. He walked with surprising grace, however he let all of his weight fall with each step. Like a ghost, he reached for my closet door and opened it quickly and without issue. Immediately, ribbons of ectoplasm seeped out, soaking and polluting the air once more. He pointed to the inside of my closet, and stared at me, gesturing me to go walk into my closet without moving. I started screaming violently for my dad to come, but nothing happened. The being just stared at me, unmoving. Hours, maybe days passed, I sat in the corner of my room and the being pointed into my closet. I couldn’t decide the lesser of two evils: Starving to death with this evil being staring me down, or taking my chances by going into the closet. A few more days passed, I was on the brink of starvation. My candle had long gone out, and I figure going in the closet could do no harm. Hesitantly, I stood up and marched towards the closet. I looked at the beast, he was still staring at me. I stepped into the closet and fell through clouds of ectoplasm, the beast laughing that same familiar deep laugh. Sleeping undisturbed has always been an issue for me, but now, I can sleep forever. - -Credited to Allen Goede
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