I don’t know why I looked up, but when I did I saw him there.
He stood against my window. His forehead rested against the glass, and his bloodshot eyes were still and dark and he smiled a lipstick-red cartoonish grin.
My husband was upstairs sleeping, my son was in his crib, and I couldn’t move.
Oh, please no.
His sickening smile never moved as he put a hand up and slid it down the glass, watching me. I couldn’t do anything. I just stayed there, frozen, feet still in the bushes I was pruning, looking into my home.★
He stood against my window. His forehead rested against the glass, and his bloodshot eyes were still and dark and he smiled a lipstick-red cartoonish grin.
My husband was upstairs sleeping, my son was in his crib, and I couldn’t move.
Oh, please no.
His sickening smile never moved as he put a hand up and slid it down the glass, watching me. I couldn’t do anything. I just stayed there, frozen, feet still in the bushes I was pruning, looking into my home.★
Danielle is a freelance writer, author, blogger, and poet. She currently has five published books and is feverishly working on her next release.
When not writing, Danielle is introverting, sleeping, reading, and binge watching Netflix (just not all at the same time).
Links:
Website: http://www.daniellevanalst.com
Twitter: @d_vanalst
Instagram: @dvanalstwriter
I should know better than to come here by now! Excellent, D! I'm sufficiently chilled! 😜😂
ReplyDeleteThat's quite a good start for this. Extra creepy. 😱
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