Turning the flashlight on, I slowly walked up to my room.
Taking steps up, I could still hear the sound.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Looking back downstairs, I knew my father was wrong. I couldn't have been paranoid. I COULDN'T. Sure, I just witnessed something that scarred me for life, but that wouldn't make me hear things, right?
Being on the top of the stairs frightened me. I had no idea who was there or what it was. Of course I'd be scared. I shrugged off my fear, I had to go in. Why was I making such a damn fuss over a noise I heard? For all I knew, it could be a mouse.
I kicked the door open so I could take a look around, yet nothing was there, again. I walked into my once peaceful room and searched for anything that changed. But nothing. I sighed whilst sitting onto my bed with my palms in my hand, 'I must be really going crazy...' I thought.
...
Then, as I got back up, the corner of my eye looked at my wardrobe. I turned to my left and slowly continued walking forwards...
...
Taking steps closer.
And closer.
And closer.
Until I was face to face. The sound couldn't have been coming from inside here...
Could it?...