By Eva Richey
It sounded like piano music and it was coming from my living room. I opened my eyes wide, the white duvet on my bed now seeming like extremely pathetic protection. As the piano music continued – an eerie tune that sounded like a haunted version of “twinkle twinkle little star” – my fear mounted. Speaking as a thirteen-year-old that has just gotten permission to spend the night alone for the first time, this was not good for my track record. My mind raced with thousands of thoughts. Did I forget to lock the door? Or the window? Was that just the microwave’s musical beeping that only sounded creepy because it was late? These thoughts grew bigger by the second, and eventually, I threw back the duvet and went to check. At first, my feet refused to move, the cold sweat freezing to the even colder wood floor, but I eventually opened my bedroom door, clinging to my fluffy purple robe, like armor. As I went down the hallway, the piano music continued, and something brushed against my ankles. I opened my mouth to scream, but then I realized it was just my cat, Marvin. I picked him up and continued walking, careful to avoid all the floorboards that creaked. Worry and anxiety took over, and I stood stock-still for the next 2 minutes. Only then did my 11:00-at-night-energy-depleted brain realize what it hadn’t realized all this time. A light was on in the living room. Another thing I realized was that the piano music was still playing, but quieter and louder at the same time. This wasn’t something I knew anyone could do, but I’d only realize that later. I got closer to hear the music, and I went into a trance. A trance that I later regretted. Another few minutes went by before I realized that there was a figure at the piano. I went a few steps closer, and I accidentally stepped on one of the creaky floorboards. The figure turned around, and I suddenly heard a loud yowl. I had accidentally dropped my cat, Marvin. I had dropped him because the sight I saw was a sight I would remember forever. And not in a good way.