13

The clock struck midnight; I turned 13 on Friday the 13th, December 1998. Cliché, I know. I dreaded this day; everyone usually made fun of the fact my birthday was on the 13th each year, saying they didn't want to be around someone who is unlucky.

So, the fact I was becoming 13 on Friday the 13th was the worst possible thing to happen to me. They were right though, I was an unlucky person. I seemed to be unluckier than the average kid. I had no friends, I was only living with my father who could barely afford to put food on our table, and I was extremely clumsy. That wasn’t so bad though; I was used to it, and grateful for what I had.

Little did I know this particular day would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Hour 1: Midnight to 1 AM.

My dad came in to wish me happy birthday. I was sat on my bed in the dark holding my legs close to my body, just staring out the window at the moonlight shining through. Dad sat on the edge of my bed and put his hand on mine.

“Alana, I know you weren’t looking forward to today, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday anyway.”

I turned to him, he handed me a small red velvet cupcake with vanilla icing swirled on top in a perfect spiral with a singular red candle. I liked the colour red, it reminded me of roses. Rose was my mother’s name, she died when I was four years old.

“Thanks”, I whispered as I took the cupcake from my dad. I blew out the candle and placed it gently on my bedside table. Dad squeezed my hand and got up, but I pulled him back and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around me tighter and pulled away to kiss me on top of my head.

“Get some sleep, you have a big day ahead of you. Goodnight sweetheart.”

I nodded and climbed under the duvet with my head on the pillow looking at my dad as he got to my door. He looked at me and smiled, which then turned into a frown. I thought I saw a tear escape his eye but maybe I was imagining things, so I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep…

Hours 2-3: 1 AM to 3 AM. I slept peacefully, even had a dream that I was surrounded by friends at school. I was popular for a couple of hours, it was a nice feeling.

Hour 4: At 3 AM, I woke up to some rustling and a light tapping at my window. The rustling was from tree leaves in the wind and I thought a branch may have been knocking against the window, but the tree wasn’t close enough to my house. The tapping kept going so I got up to have a look. The tapping stopped.

I looked down at the tree trunk, there was the shape of a man standing next to it. I couldn’t see his face or anything as it was too dark. Was he throwing small rocks at my window? He just stood there, watching me. I turned away and the tapping started up again. I climbed back into bed hoping the strange man would go away.

After 10 minutes, the sound stopped so I decided to sneak back to the window to peer out. The man had gone. I looked around and there was no sign of him.

“Alana…” I heard someone call out softly. A man’s voice. I assumed it was my father so I turned around.

“Dad?” I whispered.

“Alana, come here…” I heard it again. I crept towards my father’s room (on the other side of the second floor) in case I woke him up, maybe he was saying my name in his sleep? I slowly opened the door.

Dad was sound asleep, a light snoring filling the room. I waited a few minutes but I didn’t hear the voice again, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Confused and a little afraid, I made my way back to my room.

I got to my bed to find my favourite teddy bear sat upright on my pillow. Her name was Rose, after my mother. She had a rose pattern on her, my mother gave her to me to snuggle with in my cot when I was a baby. Why was she sat on my pillow? There was a note taped to her head, so I opened it. All it said was ‘1 PM.’ I looked at the clock, it was 3:30 AM. What could 1 PM mean? I put the note on my bedside table next to my birthday cupcake and settled back into bed. The tapping started again.