A knock on your window is the last thing you want to hear when it is 3:43 am, and you live alone. I was all nestled into bed after a long day of work. Patients came in second after second and I didn’t even get my break. The hospital was understaffed, so when I got home I ate and immediately went to bed. I was in a deep sleep when I heard a tap that woke me from my slumber. It sounded like a finger tapping on the glass. It was pretty annoying and didn’t stop for about two minutes. When it was finally over, I figured it was nothing. Sounds are created all the time in the outside world, but I still had a strange feeling. My heart was beating, and the air felt eery. I couldn't shake the thought that something bad was going to happen. I tried to fall back asleep, tossing and turning, but I couldn’t. I felt as if I was being watched. I grabbed a book, desperate to ignore that gut wrenching feeling, but it would not go away. That's when the sound happened again. 3:50. A knocking sound. It was louder than last time, like a fist, pounding a window. It sounded like it was coming from my window, but I told myself that was crazy. Nothing ever happens in this neighborhood. I still just could not shake the feeling away. By now, I was getting scared, so I got up and tip-toed to the living room. I checked all the windows and doors, making sure they were locked. I even locked the basement door, just in case. I closed all my blinds and curtains. I ran back up to my room, sure I was just being paranoid. I locked my door, scared of something coming inside, but unlocked it, in case I needed to get out. By the time I got back under my covers it was 3:55. That is when the banging happened. It was loud and harsh, and by then I knew it was coming from my window. Tears started flowing out of my eyes as I rolled over and saw the shadow. A big man was standing outside of my window, pounding on the glass. I gulped, choking down a sob, begging silently for him to go away. To let me sleep. What could he want? What did he need? I figured I would need a game plan. This man was obviously here for a reason, not a friendly visit. I reached for my phone, hoping to call the police, but it wasn’t there. I searched all over, trying to be as discreet as possible, so I had the upper hand. I wanted him to think I was sleeping. When I couldn’t find my phone I opened my drawers, looking for my knife. By then, I knew he knew I was awake. But I didn’t care. I needed to kill this man before he killed me. I’d watched scary movies before, and I knew that the only way to get out was to attack. To win. I couldn’t find my knife anywhere so I rolled over, scanning my room for anything I could hurt him with. And that’s when I saw it. Peeking through the curtain was a mask. It looked like human flesh, with the eyeballs cut out, along with a mouth hole. He was staring right at me, piercing black eyes shining through the wretched mask. I saw him smile as we locked eyes and he pulled something out of his pocket. It took him a minute, because he didn’t break eye contact. At first, I couldn’t tell what he was holding, but then he turned it on. My phone. He threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. Tears flowed down my cheeks. My one way to call the police was destroyed. He smiled as he saw fat tears glistening and falling on my bed covers. That’s when he grabbed something else out of a bag. A big, fat kitchen knife. I recognized him instantly. I realized now that I couldn’t hide. He’d been in my house, he knows the rooms.
“What do you want?” I screamed. He just smiled. By this point I was sobbing. I didn’t know what to do, how to get him away.
“Leave me alone! I’ll do anything! Anything.” I begged and pleaded for ten minutes while he just smiled at me. And then, finally, he started moving. I watched as he walked around my house, until he was out of sight of my room window. I crawled in my hall, hoping he didn’t see me as he passed there too. I slid through my kitchen watching him through the windows, when he finally stopped at the front door. He started banging on it with his fist. I ran back into my room and locked the door. I put a chair on the handle and stepped back. I noticed a baseball bat on the floor, so I picked it up, and waited. All I could do was pray. Finally, the banging stopped. I thought he was done, but then I heard the sound of metal hitting my wooden door. The door smashed apart, and I sobbed, standing there with my bat. I heard his footsteps echo down the hall as he walked through my house. He smashed a few things and sharpened his knife. He dragged his knife across the glass, so that I could hear the scraping. Finally, I heard him stop outside my bedroom door. His crowbar hit the door and his face peeked in. He tilted his head sideways, and showed me his big, toothy smile. He walked towards me and hit the bat out of my hands with the crowbar. He wrestled me to bed and I couldn’t do anything. He was bigger, stronger, and tougher than me. I cried as he pulled out his knife, and watched as it went down, down, down. My eyes flew open. It was just a dream. I sucked in deep breaths, and clutched my sheets. It was just a dream. I smiled to myself, feeling super relieved. I went to grab my phone but it wasn’t there. My heart started racing. Glancing at my alarm, I froze. It was 3:43, and I heard a soft tap on my window.