Night of Terror

A story written for my Creative Writing Class. Let me know what you think!


The telephone rang; she dashed to answer it before the noise woke the baby.
“Hello” there was silence at the other end.
“Hello hello is anyone there?” silence, “Who is this, who’s there?” she asked, as her eyes darted around the room. She heard what sounded like heavy breathing at the other end of the telephone. “Oh grow up!” she said, as she slammed down the phone. More crank calls, she thought. She turned about to go upstairs and check on the baby. When the silence was shattered again with insistent loud thumping and banging on the back door. It was late she wasn’t expecting anyone. No one ever came to the back door. She froze in her tracks. Apprehensiveness gripped her stomach. This was not right. What should she do?
“I know you’re in there.” said an unfamiliar harsh voice on the other side of the door.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Open this door!” he shouted.
“Go away, I am calling the police.”
She was afraid now. She was alone in the house with the baby upstairs. Should she go up and get him, should she leave him sleep, what should she do? She froze on the step not able to move in one direction or the other. The male voice on the other side of the door became louder and more menacing.
"I know you’re in there, I’ll get you."

The banging became more rapid and aggressive. Her heart was racing, tears started to roll down her cheeks. Her palms became clammy and started to sweat. Her legs were trembling. She sank down on the step to gather herself trying to figure out what to do. She took a breath and noticed the silence, the shouting had stopped. Had he gone away? Sitting there on the step, a sigh releasing some of the tension escaped her. Was it over, was he gone. Just as she started to get up she heard the eerie teeth watering sound of metal cutting against metal at the window.
The window was open. There was only a screen between her and the shadow with the chilling laugh. She reached her hand around the corner and grabbed the phone. She couldn’t reach the bit of paper the number of the restaurant was on without him seeing her, so she dialed 911.

“Can I help you?” said a woman’s voice at the other end of the phone.
“Yes please, there's a man cutting the screen window with a knife trying to get in. I am scared I don’t know what to do.”
“What is your name?” the lady asked,
“Lucy, Lucy Harris” she replied.
“What is your address?”
“309 Hadley Road.”
“The police have been contacted Lucy and will be there any minute. Stay on the phone with me Lucy, keep talking to me.”
“Please hurry,” she whispered desperately,” I can see the knife cutting through the screen.”
“Are the lights on Lucy”?
“No I turned them off when he started shouting and banging at the backdoor.”
“That’s good Lucy, are you alone in the house.”
“No, my little brother's upstairs asleep.”
“Where are your parents Lucy?”
“They went out for dinner.”
“Where Lucy?”
“Giovanni’s,”
“OK Lucy we will call them. What’s happening now Lucy?”
“The cutting noise has stopped, I hear sirens.”
“Your parents are on their way Lucy. Don’t open the door until they get there. They should arrive any minute. You are a very brave girl Lucy.”
Lucy started to cry.

A key turned in the door. She crouched behind the wall, holding her breath waiting. She saw the familiar shapes of her parents. Lucy ran to her mother throwing herself into her waiting arms, clinging to her as she sobbed. Relieved she was safe at last.
“What happened here tonight Lucy? You better have a good explanation for all this fuss” her father demanded.
Before Lucy could make any reply, a policeman said,
“We have had a number of incidents similar to this, sir. If it is alright with you I would like to ask Lucy a few questions.”
Finally all the questions were answered. The house was quiet. It had been a long night and Lucy was exhausted. Lucy’s mother wrapped her arm around her teenage daughter and led her up the stairs to her bed.