A Night of Terror

By : Angelo Scaletta

The night was cold, dark and wet.
A heavy downpour came over the city of Philadelphia as a young boy sat staring out his living room window.
His face held a sad appearance as he sat with his palm under his chin. Waiting. He had been waiting for over an hour already as his mother took her seat on the couch facing the window. The boy turned to his mother to speak.

"Mom. When's dad coming home?"

His voice a low and fragile tone as he gazed over at his mother who had taken up her nightly routine of knitting. The boy knew his mother well enough to know that when she was knitting, she was trying to keep her mind off something. He noticed his mother's face attempt to hide her worry.

"I'm sure you're father will be home soon, son. Maybe you should get on up to bed. It is getting late." 

His mother calmly suggested. The boy ignored his mother for a moment, turning his focus back to the window. The rain tapping against the window pane as he tried to focus on the dark road in front of their home. His father usually worked late, but tonight the young boy had an uneasy feeling. It was evident on his mother's face as well that something wasn't right. 

The cuckoo clock that hung on the wall over the fireplace mantle stirred up as a small little bird popped out the tiny door and chimed. It was already midnight and the boy's father still was nowhere in sight. He got excited for a moment when he spotted the lights of a passing car, but his frown returned quickly when the automobile sped past their home. 

"Come now son, It's time for bed." 

His mother chimed in as soon as the clock stopped its hourly routine. Setting her knitting needle down as she stood to walk her son to bed and tuck him in. He was after all only a child, barely 10 years old. The young boy slowly stood from his perched position in front of the window. Turning to his mother to follow her up to his room. He crawled into bed as his mother pulled the blanket over him to keep him warm. The rain tapping against his bedroom window now as his mother leaned in and gave him a soft kiss upon his forehead. 

"Get some sleep, When you wake up, your father will be here. You'll see." 

She spoke to him, trying to be calm but her son noticed the worry in her voice. He closed his eyes and listened as his mother stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He lay in bed, thinking, worrying. Where could his father be, he was never this late. He stayed in bed as his eyes grew heavy. Slowly they closed on him and soon he was off in his personal dreamland. 

His mother however remained seated downstairs, staring out the rain drenched window as a flash of lightning lit up the street in front of the house. Her eyes were drawn to something she thought she saw. Something standing across the street. Her eyes narrowed, waiting for the next flash. Then it lit up again. Her eyes spotted something, and quickly her eyes widened and a hint of fear fell over her.

"What was that?!"

She whispered to herself as she leaned closer to the window, hoping to get a better look but her fear kept growing. 

"There it is again!" 

She mumbled as she stood alone in the living room. She knew she was home alone with her son, and had heard stories from neighbors about someone or something lurking around the houses at night. Her heart sank when the lightning flashed again and this time she saw that same dark figure, only it was closer now. This time it was on her side of the street, and it appeared to just be standing there... staring. 

She felt panic flood her body as she stepped back startled, quickly shutting the curtains to cover her window and her view. She turned her head back toward the stairs and thought about her son. Feeling more and more scared she quickly headed to her bedroom upstairs and past her sons room and into her own. Sitting on the bed as she slid open the drawer to the nightstand on her husband's side of the bed. She bit her lip feeling nervous as she gazed down into the drawer. Her eyes settling on the revolver her husband kept in the house in case of emergencies. 

She reached into the drawer, her fingers sliding around the rough grip of the handle. Pulling her hand back out, the small snub nose .38 revolver gripped in her hand as she saw another flash of lightning at her window, followed by a rumbling thunder. She wondered why she had not heard thunder after the lightning when she was downstairs, but that thought quickly left her mind as she made her way back out of her room and downstairs. Stopping first to peek in on her son, spotting him and slightly smiling as she saw her son sleeping peacefully. 

She headed back downstairs and into the living room again, stepping up to the window behind the draped curtains. She paused for a moment, feeling that fear inside her increase as she carefully pulled the curtain open just a little. Doing her best to peek out without being seen by whoever or whatever was out there. Her eyes scanned the street and her front yard in the dark, but it was difficult to see anything and the heavy rain wasn't helping. She stared.. waiting for another flash of lightning to give her some clarity. Sure enough another flash lit up the street as thunder soon followed behind, louder than before, this time rumbling the walls of the house itself. She couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary now. The figure she had seen before was now gone. 

She sighed a sigh of relief as some of the fear and nervousness escaped her mind. She took a deep breath, the revolver still clenched in her hand.
Her mind wandered back to her husband. He was more than late and she was now really getting worried as she glanced over at the clock and saw that it was almost one in the morning. She decided she would sit and wait up for him, hoping that he would walk through the door any minute now.  She made her way back toward her spot on the couch to return to her knitting. It always helped keep her mind at ease. 

However as she approached her previous spot on the tan colored couch, something stopped her. Something out of the corner of her eye. She stood in the center of her living room and had a clear line of sight into the kitchen at the back of the house and a direct view of the back door, where the medium window on the door flashed from another flash of lightning. The small curtain still open as she turned her head slowly toward the door. He eyes widened and that fear returned. She thought she saw something on the other side. She stood motionless.. waiting for another flash. 

Thunder rumbled and she could tell the storm was getting worse. The night lit up again with another flash and this time her jaw dropped open as she let out a squeal, quickly stifled by her free hand as her other hand started to tremble, the gun shaking in her grip. Her eyes began to tear up with fear as she saw the same figure again, only this time it was behind her house.. at her back door! She swallowed hard and felt the lump in her throat remain. She was practically frozen in fear as she watched the back door intently as the flash faded. Without the lightning she couldn't see anything outside the house. 

Finally she snapped to, her hand gripping the revolver tighter. She slowly started toward the kitchen, her fear intensifying as she got closer. Her feet moved from the carpeted living room to the cold tile floors of the kitchen. The back door a mere 10 feet in front of her. She squinted her eyes at the window, struggling to see what she thought she saw, even though her mind was screaming at her to run and get her son. She paused in the dimly lit kitchen doorway, focused on the window as the rain tapped. She waited for another flash, hoping it was just her imagination..

The flash solidified her fear as the light flashed upon whoever or whatever was outside the door. She couldn't see a face or anything, just the dark outline of someone standing there. She almost fell back as she panicked, turning and quickly scurrying up the stairs toward her son's room. She paused outside his door, trying to compose herself. She didn't want to terrify her son, especially since he went to bed worrying about his father. 

She slowly opened the door and stepped inside, her free hand closing the door behind her attempting to lock it but realizing her son's room had no lock. She swallowed again as she turned to her son's bed. Quietly she walked over, bending her hand holding the gun behind her back, she didn't want to frighten him. She sat upon the edge of her bed and gently nudged her boy's should. 

"Son.. son.. wake up." 

She said, trying her best to remain calm but her voice almost quivering as she carefully woke up her son. 

"Wake up son, I need you to wake up.."

She said to him as he turned over to her, his groggy eyes slowly opening and focusing on his mother's face. Quickly he say up, a smile leaping across his face. Clearly he thought his father was finally home, but his face quickly went back to normal as he realized the look on his mothers face. Noticing her hand behind her back. 

"What's wrong mom? Where's dad?"

He asked, growing more and more nervous as he could tell something was wrong. She didn't answer his question. Instead she pulled the blanket off him and motioned for him to get out of bed. He was already in his pajamas as he sat up at the edge of his bed next to his mom. Her hand shifting to keep the gun hidden from her young boy. 

"Listen son.. I need you to wake up and I need you to listen to me carefully.." 

His mother started. Her tone made him worry even more as she spoke.

Just then they both widened their eyes as they heard the sound of glass breaking downstairs. Their heads turned toward the bedroom door, then back toward each other. Both realizing someone or something had just broken in. Fear overwhelmed both of them as his mother started to cry. Still she stood up and guided her son in an attempt to hide from who whoever or whatever was in the house. The boy started to tremble as he gripped his mother's free hand. She did her best to remain calm and tugged her son into the closet. 

Together they both huddled in the corner of the closet as another rumble of thunder shook the house. 

"What was that mommy?!"

The boy questioned, his voice quivering as his mother answered.

"I don't know son, be quiet.. shh.." 

She shushed him as she wrapped her arm around her scared little boy. They could hear the rain rapping on the walls of the house as they cowered and waited.. The boy's mother hoping that it was just the wind.. or maybe a branch that broke the window. Inside she knew though.. she knew that it was the sound of the window to the back door. She knew someone or something was in the house with them. Together they sat in the boys closet, the revolver still in her hand as they remained as quiet as possible. 

Soon they heard the heavy footsteps of boots coming up the stairs. The young boy began to sob as his mother tried her best to keep him calm and quiet. Closer the footsteps got as they waited. Closer and closer as they heard the footfalls up and down the hallway. Whoever or whatever it was, was searching the house. They heard the boy's bedroom door slowly creak open.. the heavy steps of something coming closer.. 

They both shut their eyes tight and hoped they wouldn't be discovered.
The boy's mother holding the gun in her hand, aimed at the door..
Waiting....