Speaker 1: I was ten years old when it happened, and it's
Speaker 1: a night i'll never forget. My parents had rushed to
Speaker 1: the hospital around midnight.
Speaker 2: My mom was in labor and it was.
Speaker 1: Time for my little sister to be born. I remember
Speaker 1: the excitement and nervousness in the air as they scrambled
Speaker 1: together everything they needed.
Speaker 2: My mom was calm, but.
Speaker 1: I could see the tension in my dad's face as
Speaker 1: he tried to keep things under control. Before they left,
Speaker 1: my dad knelt down to my level, placing his hands
Speaker 1: on my shoulders. You're going to be fine, buddy, he said,
Speaker 1: his voice steady, but with a hint of urgency. We'll
Speaker 1: be back as soon as we can. Just stay inside,
Speaker 1: lock the doors, and don't answer the phone unless it's us.
Speaker 1: You're in charge, okay, I nodded, trying to mirror his calmness.
Speaker 1: I wasn't scared, at least that's what I told myself.
Speaker 1: I was excited.
Speaker 2: Actually.
Speaker 1: It was the first time i'd be home alone at night,
Speaker 1: and I felt grown up, ready to prove that I
Speaker 1: could handle it. As they drove off, I stood by
Speaker 1: the window, watching the tail the lights of their car
Speaker 1: fade into the darkness. The house felt different without them there, bigger, emptier,
Speaker 1: but I wasn't afraid. I had my favorite movie queued up,
Speaker 1: a bag of chips, and a can of soda. It
Speaker 1: was going to be a fun night, or so I thought.
Speaker 1: It was around one am when I started to feel uneasy.
Speaker 1: The movie had just ended and the house was dead, silent.
Speaker 1: I remember thinking how strange it was that a house
Speaker 1: could feel so empty, so still, as if it was
Speaker 1: holding its breath. I got up to turn off the TV,
Speaker 1: the remote heavy in my hand. As I crossed the
Speaker 1: living room, I caught a glimpse of something out of
Speaker 1: the corner of my eye, movement just outside the front door.
Speaker 2: I froze, my heart, skipping a beat.
Speaker 1: I told myself it was probably nothing, maybe a car
Speaker 1: driving by the headlights casting shadows on the porch. But
Speaker 1: when I looked closer, I realized the shadow wasn't from
Speaker 1: a car. It was a person. I couldn't see them clearly,
Speaker 1: just the faint outline of a figure standing outside, barely
Speaker 1: visible through the frosted.
Speaker 2: Glass of the front door.
Speaker 1: They were tall, their shoulders hunched as if they were
Speaker 1: trying to stay out of sight. I stood there for
Speaker 1: what felt like an eternity, my mind racing who could
Speaker 1: it be? My parents weren't supposed to be back yet,
Speaker 1: and they had the only other key. No one else
Speaker 1: knew I was home alone, at least no one who
Speaker 1: should have known. Then slowly the door knob began to turn.
Speaker 1: My breath caught in my throat as I watched the
Speaker 1: handle twist back and forth, the faint rattle of metal
Speaker 1: against metal filling the silence. Whoever it was they were
Speaker 1: trying to get in. Panic surged through me, and I
Speaker 1: bolted for the hallway, my bare feet slapping against the
Speaker 1: hardwood floor. I knew I had to hide, but where
Speaker 1: my room felt too obvious, too easy to find.
Speaker 2: The closets were too small, too cramped.
Speaker 1: But there was one place I knew they wouldn't think
Speaker 1: to check, the hall closet. The hall closet was narrow,
Speaker 1: just wide enough for coats and shoes, with a small
Speaker 1: shelf above for storage. I had hidden there during hide
Speaker 1: and seek games with my friends before, and no one
Speaker 1: had ever found me. It was cramped and the smell
Speaker 1: of old leather and mothballs filled the air, but it
Speaker 1: was my best option. I squeezed myself inside pulling the
Speaker 1: door shut as quietly as I could. My heart was
Speaker 1: pounding in my chest, so loud that I was sure
Speaker 1: whoever was outside could hear it. I pressed myself against
Speaker 1: the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible,
Speaker 1: my eyes fixed on the sliver of light that seeped
Speaker 1: through the crack in the door. I waited, every muscle
Speaker 1: in my body tense, my ears straining for any sound.
Speaker 1: For a moment, there was nothing, just silence, thick and oppressive,
Speaker 1: like the whole world had stopped moving. I started to
Speaker 1: hope that maybe the person had left, that they had
Speaker 1: given up and walked away. But then I heard the
Speaker 1: creak of the front door opening. I bit down on
Speaker 1: my lip to keep from gasping, my body trembling with
Speaker 1: fear the intruder was inside the house. The sound of
Speaker 1: footsteps followed, slow, deliberate, as if they were taking their time.
Speaker 1: The footsteps echoed through the hallway, growing louder as they
Speaker 1: approached the living room. I could hear the soft thud
Speaker 1: of something heavy being set down, followed by the faint
Speaker 1: rustle of fabric. Whoever it was, they weren't alone. I
Speaker 1: could hear low voices speaking in hushed tones. Though I
Speaker 1: couldn't make out what they were saying, my mind raced
Speaker 1: with possibilities burglars, kidnappers, worse. I squeezed my eyes shut,
Speaker 1: trying to block out the terror.
Speaker 2: That was threatening to overwhelm me.
Speaker 1: I didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe too loudly, afraid
Speaker 1: that even the slightest noise would give me away. And
Speaker 1: then the voices stopped. I opened my eyes, my breath
Speaker 1: hitching in my throat as I listened. The footsteps were
Speaker 1: moving again, this time heading down the hallway toward me.
Speaker 1: The sound of footsteps grew closer, each step sending a
Speaker 1: jolt of fear through my body. I could see the
Speaker 1: shadow of someone moving just outside the closet door, outline
Speaker 1: barely visible through the crack. I held my breath, praying
Speaker 1: they wouldn't find me. But then the closet door began
Speaker 1: to open. I bit down on my lips so hard
Speaker 1: that I tasted blood, my heart hammering in my chest.
Speaker 1: As the door creaked open inch by inch, I tried
Speaker 1: to make myself as small as possible, pressing myself against
Speaker 1: the back wall, hoping that the darkness would hide me.
Speaker 1: The door stopped halfway open, and for a moment, nothing happened.
Speaker 1: I could hear the intruders breathing, slow and steady, just
Speaker 1: inches away from me. My mind raced with possibilities. What
Speaker 1: would they do if they found me? Would they hurt
Speaker 1: me worse? But then the door suddenly slammed shut. I
Speaker 1: nearly jumped out of my skin, my heart pounding so
Speaker 1: hard I thought it might burst. I could hear the
Speaker 1: intruder moving away. Their footsteps were treating down the hallway.
Speaker 1: I stayed hidden, too scared to move, listening as the
Speaker 1: footsteps grew fainter and fainter, until finally.
Speaker 2: They were gone. But I knew better than to come out.
Speaker 1: The intruders were still in the house, and I couldn't
Speaker 1: risk being seen.
Speaker 2: I could hear them moving around.
Speaker 1: Opening drawers, rifling through cabinets, their voices low and tense.
Speaker 1: They were looking for something, money, valuables, anything they could take.
Speaker 1: I heard one of them curse under their breath, frustrated
Speaker 1: at not finding what they were looking for. The minutes
Speaker 1: dragged on, each one, feeling like an eternity. I wanted
Speaker 1: to cry, to scream, but I knew I had to
Speaker 1: stay quiet. I was alone, and no one was coming
Speaker 1: to help me. Finally, after what felt like hours, I
Speaker 1: heard the front door creak open again. The intruders were leaving.
Speaker 1: I stayed in the closet, my body trembling, waiting until I.
Speaker 2: Was sure they were gone.
Speaker 1: I didn't dare move until I heard the sound of
Speaker 1: a car engine starting outside, followed by the screech of
Speaker 1: tires on the pavement, and then silence. I didn't come
Speaker 1: out of the closet right away. I was too scared,
Speaker 1: too shaken by what had just happened. I kept expecting
Speaker 1: the intruders tours to come back, to realize they had
Speaker 1: missed something and returned to finish what they had started.
Speaker 2: But they didn't.
Speaker 1: When I finally gathered the courage to leave my hiding place,
Speaker 1: the house was eerily quiet. The living room was a mess,
Speaker 1: Cushions thrown off the couch, drawers pulled out and emptied
Speaker 1: onto the floor, papers scattered everywhere. They had taken anything
Speaker 1: valuable they could find, jewelry, electronics, even the cash my
Speaker 1: parents kept in the kitchen drawer. I wandered through the
Speaker 1: house in a daze, the fear still gripping me, but
Speaker 1: a new emotion, creeping in anger. They had invaded my home,
Speaker 1: my safe place, and there was nothing I could do
Speaker 1: about it. I found the phone on the floor where
Speaker 1: they had tossed it after cutting the line. My hands
Speaker 1: were shaking as I dialed nine to one to one,
Speaker 1: my voice barely steady as I told the operator what
Speaker 1: had happened. The police arrived quickly, their flashing lights casting
Speaker 1: an eerie glow on the walls as they searched the
Speaker 1: house and took my statement. I told them everything I
Speaker 1: could remember, the shadows, the voices, the way they had
Speaker 1: searched the house, like they knew exactly what they were
Speaker 1: looking for. But when it was all over and the
Speaker 1: police had left, I was alone again. The house felt different,
Speaker 1: now no longer a place of safety, but a place
Speaker 1: where bad things could happen, a place where strangers could walk.
Speaker 2: Right in and take whatever they wanted. My parents came
Speaker 2: home the.
Speaker 1: Next morning, exhausted but ecstatic after the birth of my sister,
Speaker 1: but their joy turned to horror when they saw the
Speaker 1: state of the house and heard what had happened. My
Speaker 1: dad held me tightly, his hands trembling as he apologized
Speaker 1: over and over.
Speaker 2: For leaving me alone.
Speaker 1: My mom cried, her tears falling onto my hair as
Speaker 1: she hugged me. But the damage was done. The intruders
Speaker 1: were gone, and they had taken more than just our valuables.
Speaker 1: They had taken my sense of safety, my belief that
Speaker 1: my home was a place where nothing bad could happen.
Speaker 1: For weeks after, I couldn't sleep. Every noise made me jump,
Speaker 1: every shadow made me shiver with fear. I kept expecting
Speaker 1: the intruders to come back to finish what they had started,
Speaker 1: but they never did. It's a reminder that no place
Speaker 1: is truly safe. It was supposed to be a chill night.
Speaker 1: My parents had gone out for a dinner party, leaving
Speaker 1: me home alone for the first time in what felt
Speaker 1: like forever. I was a teenager, finally trusted enough to
Speaker 1: hold down the fort by myself, and I was looking
Speaker 1: forward to it. No siblings to bother me, no parents
Speaker 1: telling me to turn off the TV or do my homework,
Speaker 1: just me, a bowl of popcorn and hours of uninterrupted
Speaker 1: video games. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet
Speaker 1: that only comes when everyone else is gone. It was
Speaker 1: comforting at first, a peaceful kind of silence that made
Speaker 1: the whole place feel like it was truly mine. I
Speaker 1: settled into my favor spot on the couch, the game
Speaker 1: controller in hand, and lost myself in the pixelated world
Speaker 1: on the screen.
Speaker 2: But as the hours ticked by, that silence started to
Speaker 2: feel different.
Speaker 1: The clock on the wall ticked louder, the hum of
Speaker 1: the refrigerator in the kitchen became more pronounced, and every
Speaker 1: little noise of the house made me pause, my heart
Speaker 1: skipping a beat. I told myself it was nothing. Old
Speaker 1: houses make noise, and I was just being paranoid. Besides,
Speaker 1: I was having fun and I wasn't about to let
Speaker 1: a few creaky floorboards ruin my night. But then, just
Speaker 1: as I was about to finish a particularly tough level,
Speaker 1: something caught my eye movement outside the window. At first,
Speaker 1: I thought it was just the reflection of the game
Speaker 1: on the glass, a trick of the light that made
Speaker 1: it look like something.
Speaker 2: Was moving outside.
Speaker 1: But when I glanced over, I saw it clearly a
Speaker 1: figure sitting on the deck. My heart skipped a beat,
Speaker 1: and I felt a cold sweat break out on the
Speaker 1: back of my neck. The deck was right outside the
Speaker 1: living room window, visible from where I was sitting, but
Speaker 1: the figure was positioned so that I couldn't see their face,
Speaker 1: just the outline of their body, hunched over, almost as
Speaker 1: if they were waiting for something. I paused the game,
Speaker 1: my hands suddenly clammy around the controller. I squinted, trying
Speaker 1: to make out who it was. Maybe it was one
Speaker 1: of my friends playing a prank on me, or a
Speaker 1: neighbor who had wandered over. But then as I watched,
Speaker 1: the figure turned slightly and I caught a glimpse of
Speaker 1: their face. It wasn't anyone I knew. I froze, my
Speaker 1: mind racing as I tried to process what I was seeing.
Speaker 1: The figure was a man older than me, probably in
Speaker 1: his late thirties or early forties. He had short, dark
Speaker 1: hair and was wearing a plane hoodie. The hood pulled
Speaker 1: up to obscure most of his face, but what I
Speaker 1: could see was enough to send a chill down my spine.
Speaker 1: He was smiling, not a friendly smile, but a wide,
Speaker 1: unsettling grin that stretched across his face, as if he
Speaker 1: found something incredibly amusing. His eyes were fixed on the house,
Speaker 1: but they didn't seem to focus on anything in particular,
Speaker 1: just staring unblinking. I swallowed hard. My pulse quickening. This
Speaker 1: wasn't normal. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't supposed to
Speaker 1: be here. I considered going outside, confronting him, but something
Speaker 1: held me back. There was something about the way he
Speaker 1: was sitting there, so still, so silent, that made me
Speaker 1: feel like I shouldn't get any closer. Instead, I stood up, slowly,
Speaker 1: trying not to make any noise, and move to the
Speaker 1: window for a better look. The man didn't react, didn't
Speaker 1: even seem to notice me. He just kept staring ahead,
Speaker 1: that eerie grin, never leaving his face. And then he
Speaker 1: started to laugh. It was a strange laugh, barely audible
Speaker 1: through the glass, but I could see his shoulders shaking,
Speaker 1: his chest rising and falling with silent chuckles. There was
Speaker 1: no sound, just the movement, like he was laughing at
Speaker 1: a joke only he could hear. I felt a wave
Speaker 1: of nausea roll over me. This wasn't just some random guy.
Speaker 1: It was someone who clearly wasn't right in the head,
Speaker 1: and he was sitting on my deck laughing to himself.
Speaker 1: I took a step back, my mind racing with what
Speaker 1: to do next. My parents weren't going to be home
Speaker 1: for hours, and I didn't want to call them and
Speaker 1: freak them out unless it was absolutely necessary.
Speaker 2: But I couldn't just ignore this either.
Speaker 1: I decided to lock the doors, at least, that way,
Speaker 1: if he tried to come inside.
Speaker 2: He wouldn't be able to get in.
Speaker 1: I moved quickly, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
Speaker 1: I locked the front door, then the back door, making
Speaker 1: sure every window was securely shut. The whole time, I
Speaker 1: could feel the man's presence on the deck, that silent
Speaker 1: laughter echoing in my mind. But when I returned to
Speaker 1: the living room to check the sliding glass door that
Speaker 1: led to the deck, my heart nearly stopped. The man
Speaker 1: was standing right up against the glass, his face inches
Speaker 1: from the door. I stumbled back, nearly tripping over the
Speaker 1: coffee table. As I scrambled away from the door, the
Speaker 1: man was still grinning, his hands pressed flat against the glass,
Speaker 1: his breath fogging up the window. I could see him
Speaker 1: more clearly now, the pale, sickly tone of his skin,
Speaker 1: the dark circles under his eyes, and that grin. It
Speaker 1: was like he was enjoying this, like he knew exactly
Speaker 1: how terrified I was and was relishing every second of it.
Speaker 1: I wanted to scream to call for help, but my
Speaker 1: voice caught in my throat. Instead. I backed away, my
Speaker 1: heart pounding in my chest, trying to put as much
Speaker 1: distance between myself and that door as possible.
Speaker 2: The man didn't move.
Speaker 1: He just stood there, watching me, his eyes tracking my
Speaker 1: every step, and then, without warning, he reached for the
Speaker 1: door handle. My breath hitched as I realized what he
Speaker 1: was trying to do. He was going to come inside.
Speaker 1: I bolted for the door, reaching it just as the
Speaker 1: handle started to turn. I yanked it back, locking it
Speaker 1: with trembling hands, just as the man pulled on the
Speaker 1: handle from the other side.
Speaker 2: For a moment, we were.
Speaker 1: Face to face, separate only by the thin pane of glass.
Speaker 1: I could see the amusement in his eyes, the twisted
Speaker 1: pleasure he was getting out of this. He tugged on
Speaker 1: the door again, harder this time, but it held firm.
Speaker 1: I stepped back, my mind racing what was he going
Speaker 1: to do next? Would he try to break the glass?
Speaker 1: Was he armed? I didn't know, and the uncertainty was
Speaker 1: almost worse than anything else. But then, to my surprise,
Speaker 1: the man let go of the handle. He stepped back,
Speaker 1: his grin widening as he tapped the glass with his finger,
Speaker 1: like he was playing some kind of game, and then
Speaker 1: he laughed again, a soundless, eerie laugh that made my
Speaker 1: skin crawl.
Speaker 2: I couldn't take it anymore.
Speaker 1: I ran to my room, slamming the door behind me
Speaker 1: and locking it, my heart pounding in my chest. I
Speaker 1: grabbed my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed nine
Speaker 1: to one one. The operator's calm voice was a stark
Speaker 1: contrast to the panic I felt. I tried to explain
Speaker 1: what was happening, but my words came out in a rush,
Speaker 1: almost incoherent. There's a man on my deck trying to
Speaker 1: get inside. He's just standing there, laughing. The operator assured
Speaker 1: me that the police were on their way, but it
Speaker 1: felt like an eternity.
Speaker 2: Before I heard the distant wail of sirens.
Speaker 1: I stayed on the phone, my eyes glued to the
Speaker 1: crack under the door, half expecting to see shadows moving outside.
Speaker 1: My mind raced with worst case scenarios. What if the
Speaker 1: man broke in before the police arrived, What if he
Speaker 1: wasn't alone. But then, just as I was about to
Speaker 1: lose hope, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps outside,
Speaker 1: followed by loud knocks on the front door. Police open up.
Speaker 1: I almost cried with relief. I unlocked my bedroom door
Speaker 1: and ran to the front door, throwing it open. Two
Speaker 1: officers stood there, their faces serious, but the sight of
Speaker 1: them made me feel like I could finally breathe again.
Speaker 1: Are you okay, one of them asked, his voice calm
Speaker 1: but urgent. I nodded, still shaken. He was on the
Speaker 1: deck trying to get inside. The officers changed a glance,
Speaker 1: then one of them motioned for me to stay inside
Speaker 1: while they checked the perimeter. I watched from the doorway
Speaker 1: as they moved around the house, their flashlights cutting through
Speaker 1: the darkness. But when they returned, their expressions were grim.
Speaker 1: We didn't find anyone. One of them said, are you
Speaker 1: sure he was out there? I nodded, feeling a fresh
Speaker 1: wave of fear. He was right there at the door.
Speaker 1: The officer side, glancing at his partner. Will file a
Speaker 1: report and have someone keep an eye on the area tonight.
Speaker 1: But if you see anything else, anything at all, call
Speaker 1: us immediately. I nodded, numbly, the reality of what had
Speaker 1: happened finally sinking in. The man was gone, but the
Speaker 1: fear remained, gnawing at the edges of my mind. The
Speaker 1: police stayed for a while, making sure the house was
Speaker 1: secure and taking down my statement. They tried to reassure me,
Speaker 1: telling me it was probably just a vagrant or someone
Speaker 1: playing a prank, but I could see the concern in
Speaker 1: their eyes. When they finally left, I was alone again,
Speaker 1: the silence of the house now a p I couldn't
Speaker 1: bring myself to go back to the living room to
Speaker 1: face the sliding glass door where the man had been standing. Instead,
Speaker 1: I stayed in my room, every little noise making me jump.
Speaker 1: I didn't sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes,
Speaker 1: I saw that grin those dark, soulless eyes staring.
Speaker 2: Back at me.
Speaker 1: I kept imagining him coming back, finding a way inside,
Speaker 1: and what would happen if he did.
Speaker 2: When my parents finally.
Speaker 1: Came home in the early hours of the morning, I
Speaker 1: practically ran to them, blurting out everything that had happened.
Speaker 1: They were horrified, of course, but by then it was
Speaker 1: too late. The man was gone and there was nothing
Speaker 1: they could do. We called the police again, but they
Speaker 1: found no trace of him, no footprints, no fingerprints, nothing.
Speaker 1: It was like he had never been there at all.
Speaker 1: For weeks after that night, I couldn't shake the feeling
Speaker 1: of being watched. Every time I walked past the living room,
Speaker 1: I felt the urge to look out at the deck
Speaker 1: to make sure it was empty. I double checked the
Speaker 1: locks on every door and window, never leaving anything to chance.
Speaker 1: But no matter what I did, I couldn't get that
Speaker 1: man's face out of my mind, that twisted grin.
Speaker 2: Those silent laughs.
Speaker 1: It was like he had etched himself into my memory,
Speaker 1: a reminder that no matter how safe I thought I was,
Speaker 1: there was always something out there waiting to find a
Speaker 1: way in. Even now, years later, I still get chills
Speaker 1: when I think about that night. I've moved on, tried
Speaker 1: to forget, but the fear lingers a dark shadow that
Speaker 1: follows me wherever I go. I've already moved out of
Speaker 1: my parents' house, but sometimes late at night, when I'm
Speaker 1: home alone and the house is silent, I can still
Speaker 1: feel him there, standing just outside the window, watching, waiting, laughing,