Naeva Quinn

I heard a strange knock at around midnight. At first, I thought I was imagining things. Maybe it was a dream or just the house creaking again. But then it came again. It sounded sharper, more insistent. Someone was deliberately knocking against my windowpane.

I froze as a chill ran down my spine, my blanket suddenly felt paper-thin as I turned over, suddenly there was silence again, and for a second, I hoped that was the end of it. Maybe some bird flew into the glass or a branch ...