I awoke to the usual sound of murmers. My parents were probably talking to my older brother about what had happened at the schoolhouse today. I hadn't been in that recess; I was still in class. But I had heard things that made me lock the window, keep the lights on, and shut the closet. I knew it wouldn't really do any good, but it made me feel safer.
I twisted my body into a more comfortable position as my family crept up the stairs, trying not to wake me. However, the old steps creaked and groaned all the same under the weight of three people. My parents came in to check on me, then flicked off the lights, assuming I had gone to bed reading or something similar. I sat up with strangled gurgle in my throat, but they had already gone to bed. I tried to assure myself it would be alright, and that I didn't need the lights, but I still couldn't fall asleep. I pulled the covers over myself, even though I was roasting. Several hours later found me still awake and sweating.
Then I heard a thump. It wasn't very loud, but it was enough to get my nerves freaking out. My eyes widened and my heartbeat leaped into a gallop. I tucked my legs in. Seconds later, something starting scratching at the window. I pictured myself running to my parents' bedroom, screaming. In reality, I was frozen with fear. After I while, I realized my blankets weren't bulletproof and weren't protective in any way. Preparing myself for the worst (but knowing I would scream all the same), I jumped out of bed, dragging my blanket, and ran to my parents' room, crying. I bumped into my dad, who asked me with a concerned expression, "What is it, sweetie?"
I led the way to my room, and my father grabbed a heavy lamp that had been sitting in the hall for ages. When I looked at him, he winked and said, "Safety." I smiled slightly through my tears, but the smile vanished when we reached my room, where I could still hear the scratching. My mom and brother followed close behind. Most of us lingered by the door, but my dad slowly advanced towards the window, lamp outstretched. He slowly parted the curtains, and I hugged my mom closer. The lamp was thrust forward into the window, and we heard a thump as something landed in our yard.
My father turned around, ghostly pale. "What is it, daddy? Are we okay?" I asked.
"Honey, I want to tell you everything is fine, but frankly, I hate to lie." He turned and stalked to his bedroom, where he kept the phone. We all followed him closely like little ducklings follow their mother.
"What are you doing?" my brother asked as my mother hugged us both tightly.
"Calling 911," he replied quietly.
If you have comments or suggestions, please post them on the doll that I will shortly be making. Thanks!