I was petrified, but I was aware that sitting on the sofa doing nothing was neither the solution, nor something I could do indefinitely.
I tried to calm down, to rationalize, and of course I thought it was my wife’s big joke. On Friday nights, the whole family is usually merry, so it’s not a possibility to rule out.
I took one last sip of coffee, and decided to take the bull by the horns.
It was obviously my wife’s joke, or rather the elder daughter’s idea, and I decided to go along with it.
I grabbed two objects from the closet, to spice up my riposte. One was the killer’s mask from the movie Scream, the other was an ordinary broom. Dressed in my armor and armed with my broom, I began to walk slowly up the stairs. One by one, trying not to make any noise.
But the problem with wooden stairs is that they creak. No matter how hard I tried not to make a sound, one step, a treacherous one, made a loud noise.
Ahh shit, I could hear the eldest giggling.
“Daddy’s coming! Daddy’s coming! Hide!”
So much for surprise. But I didn’t give up and waited for several seconds to pass before resuming my run.
Finally reaching the last step, I was only a few meters from the door to my daughters’ bedroom. I could see a filter of light protruding from the bottom of the door, and then I could hear the youngest giggling in turn.
“In the closet! Into the closet! Quick!”
Just you wait!
I knew that when I opened the door, I wouldn’t see anyone, but I also knew that my two daughters would be sure to chuckle again, knowing that I was entering their fortress.
And they did. The moment I opened the door, I could hear my two naughty girls giggling in the closet.
They’re good at pulling pranks in theory, but on the field, they’re out of practice.
I continued to play along, and moved towards the closet door, always careful not to make any noise. The fateful moment had arrived, the moment of glory, the culmination of a happy Friday night with the family.
I felt all the stress of the week melt away at the thought of them screaming in fear when I opened the door with my broomstick and Scream mask.
3…
2…
1…
“Muahahahaha !!!”
I draw on the depths of my strength to let out a psychopathic laugh as I yank open the closet door.
….
I’d felt fear before in my life, watching a good horror movie or when my youngest daughter nearly got run over by a car 2 months ago.
But what I felt at the sight of the completely empty closet wasn’t fear.
It was terror, a terror that petrified me all over again.
In this kind of situation, rationalizing is impossible, and a thousand obscure thoughts run through your mind. There was no logic, no possible explanation. Either I was going mad, or there had to be a plausible explanation. I hoped with all my heart that my wife, my eldest or my youngest would come out of another hiding place and put an end to this moment of terror.
But… no one. Absolutely no one. No one was home but me. Armed with my broom, but having now removed my Scream mask.
After spending a few minutes searching the house from top to bottom, and making sure no one was home, I automatically headed for my smartphone.
My wife is obviously the person I called, to ask for an explanation.
No answer, even after several attempts. Same for my messages, no answer.
I tried to call Grandma, but one of my daughters had to put the phone on mute and must be watching YouTube.
I’ve explained to them how to pick up the phone when they receive a call, but they know how to ignore the call and go straight back to YouTube.
Grandma picked up after three rings, with a slightly sleepy voice.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey! It’s me, Jeremy. Can you put Helen on the phone for me?”
“You poor bastard.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you really have nothing better to do?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Just so we’re clear once and for all, as I told you at the funeral 2 months ago, I forbid you to call me. You do not call me, you do not contact me, you do not come to our house. Next time, I’m calling the Police! You sick bastard!”
She hung up.
I’m past the stage of petrification, I’m now on the verge of a panic attack.