Home Alone

“We’re not alone,” my sister whispered in the middle of the night.  She crawled into my bed like she had done most nights in the last week.  You would think, at ten years old, one little ghost story would not scare her as much as the Boogeyman. My father had grown up loving scary stories and horror movies so my sister and I had been watching horror movies for as long as I could remember. For her to be scared now surprised me.  

“Of course we’re alone,” I said, rolling onto my back. “Who else would be here? Mom and dad are at the party and won’t be back for another hour at least.” 

“I heard a sound out in the hall. Like someone was walking down the hallway. But it wasn’t like a real footstep. I think it was a ghost.” 

I pulled the comforter off of me to go check the hallway just as Amy pulled it over her head. As soon as my feet hit the floor, Amy grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back to bed. 

“Don’t go! There is something out there!!” If there was a way she could scream-whisper she was doing it right now. I shook her off and headed toward the bedroom door. I didn’t know anything after the door clicked open. Didn’t know anything other than Amy screaming. Then everything went black.