I turned off the last light plunging the house into darkness and silence. The children had all long since gone to bed, and Paul had turned in just a bit ago. I have never been terribly fond of the dark. I find it smothering, and too many toys to step on and injure feet. As a child I always saw things lurking or heard footsteps or other sounds. I still tend to have an overactive imagination even though I have gotten used to navigating my house in murky shadow.
I shuffled to the front room and stopped. I thought I had heard something at the front door. I strained my ears, listening. I pushed out the memories of that night in high school when the dog had started barking. I nervously looked to the front window half expecting to see a face pressed against it same as before,but was relieved to see that the curtains had been drawn and no one was jiggling the door knob. Nervous now, I went to check it just to be sure. “You are being melodramatic again, ” I told myself, “just tell that overactive imagination of yours to go to bed.” And I crossed back through the front room to the hall.
As I walked down the half, pushing toys out of my path I stopped again, “No, just Jacob snoring.” I peaked to make sure and checked on the girls to be sure they were asleep. I finally made it into my room when I heard it again. A noise, a suspicious noise. “That is it, I’m turning on the light to investigate” I thought. My hand reached to the light switch.
All of a sudden a hand snaked from behind the door and clamped on my arm! A shriek escaped from me and I heard some one dissolve into laughter. Exasperated I whirled around and accused him, “one of these days your going to kill me!”