What’s That Sound Outside My Bedroom Door?

It is Friday night. It is past midnight. The crickets who sang me to sleep accompanied with the persistent percussion of cicadas have fallen quiet, the curtain drawn. I don’t know why I am awake until I hear it. It’s quiet. I have to strain my ears to hear it, and I nearly convince myself I am still asleep. Stuck in the limbo of near-wake & twilight dreams. It is a skitter.

It sounds like it is coming from the kitchen. I think nothing of it, and close my eyes to go back to sleep. Then I hear a loud metallic shu-uvm, like the refrigerator is being moved. Curious, I open an eye and look at the crack of my bedroom door. It is as silent as it is black. No light.

With a furrow of one brow, I close my eyes again. Shu-uvm. sksksksksk…

Once was odd, twice I know I am awake. I’m too curious a kitty to roll over and sleep like a dog. I throw the blankets diagonally across my legs and swing my feet to meet the cool hardwood floor. The only sound I hear as I approach the door are the soft pattering my soles make. I reach the doorknob and open the door. I don’t know what I was expecting.

It’s quiet. No scurry. No light. Just a blank hallway, like the inverted color of canvas, there is nothing.

I shrug and close my door. I patter back to my comforting bedsheets and crawl inside like a bug into a shag rug. Sksksksk!

My eyelids fly open. I unfurl my eyebrows and feel them return to their spot, brown, fuzzy caterpillars sloped to the middle. Confused, and hungry for understanding.

I get up and patter quickly to the door, it sounded closer this time, louder. I look right. I look left. The hallway is black and much longer in lightless shadows stretching from one side, far down to the other, but there is no culprit.

With a purse of my lips, I sigh and slowly close my bedroom door. A childish tactic comes to mind, and as I close the door, I swing it open! Black. Still nothing. I hum suspiciously as I slowly close the door until it clicks into place.

With mild annoyance, I shimmy myself back into place, no longer able to find the perfect spot I felt myself cuddle into before. I look at the door. Blue and white speckled with painted stars stare off emotionlessly like a midnight Knight keeping guard and determined in his post. I let my face relax, feeling somewhat comforted by my guard, and begin my journey into sleep once again.

BANG! Clikclikclickclik!

I fly upright. It sounds like a dog has just toppled over a pot and ran down the hallway! But I don’t own a dog. No pets have ever lived in this house as far as I’m aware, and I don’t think anyone else is home right now. So who was that running down the hall with nails so long?

Fear begins to creep over my skin, like millipedes and ghost stories. I grip my soft sheets under my fingers. The fluffy fabric brings some comfort to my worrying mind. I try to shuffle my thoughts back to reason. I am an adult. There’s no need to fear the things that go bump in the night!

Bump! Thud.

Instinctively I jump and scold myself with an exhale only a tired adult can make. I eye the door wearily. My guard is still stood upright at attention. No claw marks and no sign of him leaving for better pay. At least I am safe behind the door… but my curiosity beckons, like every horror story victim, I want to check it out.

The fear of a child keeps me locked in bed. I just stare at the door. Not the door itself, what is passed the door. In the dark of night. Lurking in the haunting shadows of a home alone. Hoping it won’t get me.

The thought is absurd, I remind myself. There is nothing there! To prove it, I will get up. And I stay put, breathing slow. Carefully, I pull the blankets diagonally across my feet and swing my legs over the bedframe. I pause with my feet above the floor, thoughtfully placing them on the cold hardwood so as not to make a sound. Slowly, I rise, being careful not to creak.

With deliberate steps, I move to the door. I hear silence. A hum in the air threatens another noise, but nothing comes. I feel my heart before I hear it. I wrap my hand around the doorknob, my palm controlling the speed and avoiding the soft click. The quietest creak escapes the hinges and I peek my head around the right, around the left. A soft breeze tickles my back & my face feels hot. Childhood stories of Hell come to the forward of my mind and my breath quickens. I recall tales of Hellhounds coming for sinners and mauling them in their place, dragging their souls down and down and down.

Before I imagine growling in the darkened distance, I rush my head inside my bedroom and slam the door. I run back to my bed and crawl inside. I remind myself those stories aren’t real, and if they are, I have done nothing to invite the Devil in to get me.

Hidden almost entirely under my bedsheets, I hear the clacking footsteps approach like a trot. It travels up then down the hallway. The sound persists with increasing fervor. I grip my fluffy sheets until they are as thin as my midnight sanity. Finally it stops right outside my door. I don’t check it.

I’m glued to my bed, my breath loud as a boom mic can exploit the sound. I feel as though any rustling of my bedsheets will alert whatever it is to my presence, and it will descend upon me before I can make my escape. I hear nothing.

My window is cracked open. A cool, late summer breeze seeps into my bedroom. I know it is not locked. At any moment I can fly through the window & out into the neighborhood, safety under the lamplights.

I’m sure time has not yet marked the minute, but it feels as though several have passed. I begin to carefully consider my exit. The door knob begins to rattle and my face goes hot, ice pours down my veins. It is going to come in & there is no safety in the childhood belief that covers will save me.

I leap from my lying position upright & I’m on my knees atop my mattress. I rip back the curtain and scream, falling off my bed!

There, before me, is an unmistakable pale face, one of horror movie monsters & urban legends. It is pale & bulbous. A small, two striped nose as slits for breath & a deformed, cartoonish scowl. Three rodent teeth huff hot breath on the glass, fogging a rough circle on the glass. Then, I hear the door open behind me. Two monsters at both exits, I’m trapped!

The door rumbles open, and in my desperate crawl for freedom, I am suddenly grabbed under my arms. I fight to see the culprit, cold fear making pinprick tears at the corners of my eyes, wild & dilated. I turn around to face one of the monsters.

It is my roommate. Her thick dark hair & matronly aura remind me of my older sister. I puff a breath of relief, then begin heaving sobs as I wrap my arms around her.

She brings me close, my head nestled in her lap & belly. She strokes my hair and coos. Her nails comb my straight black hair, they are longer than I have ever felt them before. I hear the click clack click again, from behind her. She falters. I bring my head out of her waist to look at her.

I look into her eyes. Her green eyes look yellow, wide and wild. Her face is pale & elongated, sharp cheekbones poking under her skin, like a devil mask in Charmed.

I don’t think I’m awake. I don’t think she is my roommate. I’m scared.

18.40

Sept. 17, 2026

🌒 Waxing Crescent