I relaxed, wondering what had woken me up. A creaky noise? A squirrel in the attic? Had to be something like that.
Then I heard it. the grandfather clock chimed once, twice. Two A.M.
BONG. BONG.
The clock! I shot up off my pillow. The clock was supposed to be broken!
As soon as the second BONG faded, I heard a light, pitter-pattering sound in the hallway. Footsteps running past my door.
Was my kid sister Sally walking in her sleep?
The footsteps stopped, and I heard a creaking groan, as if the whole house was shuddering. Then a SHREEEEEEEEK! like a stubborn nail being pulled out of an old piece of wood.
Except it wasn’t a nail. That shriek sounded as if it was coming from someone alive. Or maybe dead.
More little footsteps. There was a child out there. What if it was Sally? What if she was in trouble and needed my help?
I forced myself out of bed and felt my way across the room. When I was almost to the door the footsteps stopped as suddenly as they had started.
Whew! If that was really Sally out there, she’d gone back to her own room. Probably just sleepwalking. I sighed and turned from the door when I heard a skittering, scratchy sound.
Out in the hall. Something was moving around out there, dragging itself around.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!
I jumped about a foot. That was the sound of nails being screeched along the wall—like fingernails on slate! The scratching noise was coming down the hall, getting closer and closer.
It stopped right outside my door.
I could hear ragged breathing. And then an old, creaky voice spoke to me through the door.
“Where is it?” the eerie voice hissed. “Give it to me. It’s mine. MINE!”
I had two choices. I could either hide under the bed or open the door and see who was out there.
I’m thinking bed, absolutely, hide under the bed—but before I could make a move, the door slowly creaked open.
I stood there frozen. My whole body was tingling with fear. Something was coming into my room!
I took a deep breath, gathered up my courage, and jumped out into the hallway. With my fists up, ready to take a swing.
The hallway was empty. Except for the whispering.
A soft, whispering murmur came from the shadows. A whispering that seemed to move around, as if going from one dark corner to the next.
“Jayyyyyyy-sssssssonnnnnnnnnn. Jayyyyyy-ssssonnnnnnn.”
It knew my name.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flicker of movement in the shadows.
The whispery voice said, “Jayyyyyy-ssssonnnnn. Give it to meeeeeeeeeee!”
I ran back into my room and slammed the door. I turned the key in the lock and waited, but nothing happened. Nobody tried to turn the handle or rattle the door. And the whispering had turned into the sound of wind.
Wind?
I turned. The window was open and the night breeze was making the curtains billow. Ghostly white curtains shivering in the moonlight.
Strange. Because the window had been closed when I left the room.
The breeze was cold. Bone-chilling cold. I went to the window. The curtains blew up around my face, touching me like cool, soft fingers. I shoved the curtains aside and tugged on the window.
It was stuck. It wouldn’t close. The frame was big and heavy and the window wouldn’t budge. I yanked it for a while and then gave up—I’d just have to wrap up in the blankets and hope it didn’t get any colder.
I sighed and started to turn away from the stubborn old window when something made me look outside. The moon. There were clouds racing across the moon. Suddenly the clouds cleared from the sky and the moonlight cast long, wavery shadows from the tall trees.
Something was out there, moving among the trees. Trees that looked like tall soldiers marching against the night sky.
I stuck my head out the open window to see what it was. An animal? Maybe a deer, that would be cool, seeing a deer in the moonlight.
Somebody laughed. Somebody in the room right behind me.
It was an old, cackling voice.
I flinched, and as I did, I sensed the window moving above my head. I whipped my head out of the way. There was a searing pain and then BANG! the window came down like a guillotine blade.
If I hadn’t moved it would have cut my head off! Or at the very least broken my neck.
I whirled around but the room was empty. Nobody there. Nobody at all.
Something caught my eye at the window. A lock of my hair caught in the sash where it had nicked my head on the way down. So close. So deadly.
It wanted to kill me. Something in this house wanted me dead.
10
The next time I woke up the sun was streaming in the window. It was going to be a warm summer day, but I shivered, remembering what had happened.
Or had it?
The room was so bright and cheerful, so totally normal, it made me wonder.
I decided it was Steve’s fault, filling my head with all those creepy stories about an old lady who hated kids.
Suddenly the smell of bacon frying downstairs made my mouth water. I’d never been so hungry in all my life. I got dressed in a hurry, pulling on an oversized T-shirt and shorts.
I yanked on my baseball cap. Ouch! It was still sore where the window had grazed me. I checked out the little scrapy place on my scalp—proof that at least the falling window hadn’t been imaginary.
Mom would say: You know better than to leave an old window open without making sure it’s propped up. Which is exactly why I decided not to tell her about it. No point in making a big stink until I had proof there was something wrong.
I ran downstairs hoping that my mom was making pancakes to go with the bacon.
Yes! Mom was at the stove, humming some old tune of hers and flipping a pancake. Sally, still wearing her pj’s, was already chowing down at the table.
“Hi there, sleepyhead,” Mom said.
“Morning, Mom.
