Hey guys. So, I woke up at around 3:30am because my asshole drunk neighbour was bashing her door like a maniac. Stupid bitch needs to get a job.
Now, my bed is positioned to the left of my bedroom door, so it’s very clear when it’s wide open because it practically covers the wardrobe from view.
Here’s the thing. I fucking closed it before bed. I always do. It’s hella unnerving to sleep with an open door. At this point, my sleepiness went out the window. I just stayed laid on my side, staring at the ajar door, listening to my heartbeat thump harder with every theory I came up with. Burglar. Murderer. Psychopath. Aliens. Poltergeist. Demon. Who the fuck opened my bedroom door? I know you might be thinking I’m overreacting but I do I have an overactive imagination, especially in moments like this. Then I almost had a heart attack because the bitch neighbour slammed her house door shut after finally being let in by her tenth sugar daddy in ten months.
At that point, I wished I didn’t live alone. I actually wished the bitch neighbour was still making noise because things became eerily quiet. And that’s when it happened. The door creaked. “Hello?” The question fell out of my mouth instinctively. I regretted it because it declared my presence. Something had to have moved the door. All my windows are shut. I have no pets. Before the creak I was thinking about closing the door but now that was a ‘fuck that’ idea.
I’ve got work in the morning so I put the blanket over my head and decided to try and sleep. Only a few hours until sunrise. Then it got worse. There was another creak. This time it was longer. Holy fucking shit did I begin to sweat. My eardrums pounded from the sound of my heart. I could feel my throat getting dry. This is it, I’m not alone here. I lifted the duvet up, just a crack, so I could see the door. Yeah, it definitely moved. The black rectangular silhouette was at more of an angle now. I was curled up like a baby in its womb. I didn’t want to take my eyes off the door, in case anyone or anything appeared. But I realised I may have been too late with that idea. I was facing the wrong way all this time. Something, behind me, ever so slightly, pulled at my duvet.
Since then, I’ve folded both sides of my duvet so that my whole body is resting on it, including the side at my feet and head. I’m safely burittoed. Call the police? Hah. No. Let’s just say there are things here I’d rather they not see. Fuck this shit. Three hours until sunrise. Wish me luck guys.
Hold on. Guys. Something is pulling my duvet again what the fuck. It’s pulling harder holy
Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine. I’m just going to have a taste.