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August 12, 2009 1:07am by agirlwithapointlessblog

I… I don’t know what else to do at this point other than write my story down in hopes that someone will find it. Maybe I will just wake up in the morning, like usual, and rip up this note, realizing that my paranoia has been unjustified. But maybe… maybe I won’t wake up at all, or I will wake up somewhere else, and this note could identify the cause of my disappearance.

I guess I should explain a bit.

My name is Daniel Matheson, and I’m 20 years old. I live by myself in a tiny house I inherited from my uncle. I shouldn’t have to explain what the exact location is, seeing as this note should be found there… I’m a completely normal, if somewhat stressed, college student studying Graphic Design, and my everyday life is pretty boring. I don’t have any psychological or medical problems that I’m aware of, and I’ve never been the kind of person to be paranoid. Not to this extent, at least…

Last night, I woke up to a kind of… scratching sound. It was faint, but ignorable, and I accredited it to the branches of a tree scratching against the outside of my house; I’ve been awoken to such a sound before, since several tall oaks border the walls outside of my bedroom. I went back to sleep quickly, but I woke up again just a little while later. This time, the scratching was louder and… rhythmic. Purposeful; I would hear the scratching, then a beat of silence, then scratching again, repeating in a precise pattern. It was quite unlike the irregular scraping sounds caused by branches hitting the house in the wind. The noise was also different in the way that it now sounded like it was coming from my window.

Confused and irritated, I forced myself out of bed. At this point, I figured that it might be some kind of animal was trying to get in; I had seen several stray cats around here before, notorious in the neighborhood for clawing at people’s patio doors in hope of getting free food. I turned on my bedside lamp, casting a faint glow around my room, and shuffled over to window just a few feet away from the end of my bed, prepared to scare the animal away.

I screamed.

I… I can’t even begin to describe the amount of pure terror I felt when I saw what was sitting outside my window, looking in at me as it raked long, curled nails down the surface of the glass. Thinking back, I wish I hadn’t turned on my light; It wouldn’t have been nearly as horrific if I had left the… the thing shrouded in darkness. In the faint light, though, I could clearly see each detail etched into its horrible, disfigured face; its skin was greyish-blue and lifeless, stretched tight over an emaciated frame, spattered in places with a mixture of filth and dried blood. Its fingers, still pressed to the window, were skeletal and bony, dirt caked under its curved, claw-like nails. Its eyes were pitch black orbs fixed into deep sockets, inhuman and beady. And its mouth… Oh god, its mouth… It had no lips. It was as if someone had torn them completely off, leaving behind a perpetual snarl, nothing to cover the uneven, sharp yellow teeth rooted in its mandible. Somehow, though, it still managed to grin at me; its sallow cheeks lifted slightly, mocking me with a horrific equivalent of a smile. I couldn’t even scream at that point; no sound came from my throat, my vocal cords were frozen.

It… it left after it smiled at me, dropping from my view and scurrying away. I haven’t slept since then, despite it being three in the morning when I encountered it. Somehow… I know it will be back. I know its coming back tonight; I know that it’ll come to me as soon as I fall asleep. I feel it deep in my very soul; I know that that grin meant that it is planning on returning. I don’t want to succumb to my exhaustion, but I’m so fatigued that I can barely write this… I’m nervous but… all I can hope is that this note helps someone learn from my stupid mistake. I, Daniel Matheson, beg whoever finds this… Never, EVER, leave your bed if you hear something scratching outside of your window. And, no matter the circumstance, NEVER TURN ON A LIGHT.

I hope I save someone with this; I couldn’t save myself.

I can hear the scratching again.

It’s even louder than before, and more frantic.

I’m going to bed now.

Wish me luck.

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