The Watcher

It was a chilly night in the quaint suburban neighborhood of Haven Heights. Seventeen-year-old Emily found herself home alone. Her parents had gone on a last-minute trip, leaving her in charge of the house. The rain was pouring outside and the wind was howling ominously, creating an eerie ambiance that sent shivers down her spine.

Emily, determined to enjoy her solitude, decided to watch a movie to distract herself from the storm outside. The sound of rain on the windows and the distant rumble of thunder added to the suspense of the thriller movie she was engrossed in.

As the clock ticked past midnight, the atmosphere grew more unsettling. Suddenly, the power went out, plunging the house into darkness. Emily’s heart raced, and she clutched her phone tightly, using its feeble light to navigate her way to the circuit box in the basement.

With trembling hands, she made her way down the creaky stairs, her imagination running wild in the darkness. As she reached the basement, she heard a soft whisper coming from the shadows. “Emily…”

Panic surged through her. She hastily grabbed the ever-present flashlight sitting on the shelf, revealing nothing unusual. Chalking it up to her nerves, she reset the circuit, restoring power to the house.

Returning upstairs, Emily tried to shake off the fear that gripped her. She received a text from her best friend, Sarah, asking if she was alright since the electricity had flickered at her house. Emily explained the strange occurrence in the basement, and Sarah reassured her that it was just her nerves. But Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

Resolutely, she headed back to the living room and resumed watching her movie. Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the house, causing her to jump. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of the noise. There, in the dim light, she saw a figure outside the window.

Terrified, she froze. The figure pressed its face against the glass, revealing a twisted, malevolent grin—a clown’s face staring back at her. The stranger held up a knife and pretended to slice their own throat.

Fear flooded her veins as she scrambled to lock all the doors and windows. She called 911, her voice shaking as she reported the intruder. The operator promised help was on the way, but Emily knew she couldn’t wait idly.

She ran to the hallway, grabbed a hammer from the utility closet, and retreated to her room, hiding in the closet. Every creak of the floorboards and every gust of wind outside felt like the killer was inching closer.

Minutes dragged like hours until she heard sirens approaching, but they sounded way off in the distance. Emily peeked through the slats of her closet door and saw the bedroom door slowly open. A hint of light from the hallway shone through.

The figure from the window blocked the additional light source as they entered. Emily could see that their eyes were settled on the closet. She stifled a scream with her fist as the person edged closer.

A hand reached for the closet door, ever so slowly inching it open as if the intruder knew she was there. The clown’s face from the window stared back at her as the door opened wide. Its painted smile wasn’t one of friendliness, but brought horror to even the brave.

The stranger stepped forward, slowly waving the knife in front of Emily’s body. She had nowhere to run and nowhere else to hide. She brought the hammer up and went to strike, but the masked person grabbed her wrist and chuckled, a sinister laugh that sent chills through her body.

The sound of vehicles with sirens crunching on rocks in the driveway and the flashing red and blue lights outside her bedroom window gave Emily a speck of hope. She squeezed her eyes shut, threw back her head, and screamed as if this would be the last sound she ever made. Then she waited for the knife to plunge into her body.

“Emily.” A soft-spoken female voice called out to her. “Emily, this is Officer Hegan, please drop the hammer."

Emily slowly opened her eyes. The intruder was gone. She didn’t even realize they weren’t holding her wrist any longer. Two police officers slowly made their way toward her. Emily let the hammer slip from her curled hand and sank to the floor.

No one was ever apprehended on that terrifying night. The police traced footprints down the hill, but the rain had washed any other traces away. The watcher was still out there.

Watching

and

waiting …