Last night I met a woman at the bus stop that sits on Wellington Street. She was loaded down with bags, to the point where I was unable to find a place to sit. It was raining, and the storm was only getting worse, making me wish I had stayed home. The woman was a terrible mess, and it was clear that she had left in a hurry, her bags being mismatched and without any sort of order. I asked her where she was headed, and she admitted she had no idea. She was unsure when the bus was supposed to arrive, though she seemed anxious to know.
I told her that it would be arriving soon, and it was clear to me that the delay made her nervous. When I asked her if everything was alright, she broke down crying, pointing at a house down the block. This is the story she shared with me.
Three weeks ago my husband and I began hearing noises in the night. At first we though it was just the rain. It had been raining a lot lately. But the night after that long stretch, the sound of pattering on the roof returned, and when we looked out the window we saw nothing but a clear sky.
My husband and I went outside. Our kids hadn't been woken up thankfully. I found myself breathing heavily, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I tried hard to control the trembling that was going through my body, hoping my husband wouldn't notice. It didn't take very long to tell he was trying to hide his own fear, and that only made it worse. I turned around every couple of feet, but I saw nothing. Soon I was in the middle of the street, looking up at my roof. I could hear faintly the light noise, like a heavy rain, but nothing was there.
We figured it was just some squirrels. There are a lot of them in the neighborhood, and they are hard to see at night. But as we went to go inside, I could feel myself growing more anxious. By the time we reached the front door, I was shaking, my hands coated in sweat. Had my kids not been inside, and had I not convinced myself I was acting crazy, I may have just left the house then and not come back...I did go back inside though an soon after that the sound stopped.
I really felt strange, feeling that upset. My husband and I didn't really talk about it. I think we both were feeling out of sorts. It wasn't until a couple days had passed that the sound returned.
It was late at night. I was working in my office upstairs. My husband had already headed to bed, so I was completely alone. I never liked the rain. Ever since I was little the sound of thunder and rain would put me on edge. Loud noises all bother me really, but something about the rain...the way it smells...I would hear thunder, and I would run to my parents room. On nights like that, my parents would often have to call me in sick the next day just to make up for me being up the entire night.
At first I didn't notice, but it soon became clear that something was walking on the roof. It wasn't like the night before, where there were several. It was clearly just one thing, walking along the roof and heading towards the window. I rushed over and fastened the lock, waiting for something to show up. But it didn't. Instead, it headed back the way it came, to the other side of the house. I heard a thump against the other side of the wall, and then it was silent.
The next day I pleaded with my husband to call the city and have them send someone. He seemed to think it wasn't a big deal, but he said he would call anyway.
Days passed, and the rain continued. My workload made it so I had to spend more and more time in my office. Most of the nights it was just the the fear of the noise coming back. But...I just couldn't tell. I thought that I wasn't scared anymore. But those nights I felt the same anxiety I had as a child, and more and more I found myself pacing while working. My family said I was waking them up, but I would explain to them why. I would ask my husband if he had called the city, and he would assure me that he had, and that they would send someone over.
One night several days later I was down in the kitchen heating some milk. It was raining again, and every time the I would hear the crack of thunder I would jump. I almost dropped the spoon I was using at least twice. A couple minutes went by, and the milk was soon warm enough to pour. I went to put it in a cup when I heard a scratching at the front door.
I picked up a knife, and headed over. Every step filled with me with dread, and by the time I reached it I was breathing so loud I was shaking. Quickly I grabbed the handle and whipped open the door. But when I did, I saw nothing. I was just dark, the rain falling heavily. My husband came down a couple minutes later, and helped me to the bedroom. I don't remember much, but he said I was crying.
I realize now I should have never opened the door.
The next day the man from the city arrived. He said he found some animal tracks, and that he would set down some traps. I said I was relieved, but deep down I knew that something was still wrong. Tonight is when things got bad.
I was waiting by the window, near where he had placed one of the traps. I didn't know what I would see though. I hadn't seen anything before. It took me a couple of minutes, but I soon noticed that my husband was watching me. He asked me what I was doing. I turned to explain, only to scream instead. He...doesn't look like he should. He kept asking me if I was okay, but his voice was distorted. The thing in the rain had come in the house yesterday. It had gotten Paul. I ran upstairs to get my kids, but they were just standing at the door, looking at me. Their window was open, and even in the dark I could see that they didn't look normal either...
I grabbed all the things I could. Went to load them into the car. But the car was broken, smashed by the thing. The thing that looked like Paul tried to stop me, so I hit him with one of the bats in the garage. Then the things that looked like my kids...
She didn't finish, as the bus arrived at that point. Before I could protest she grabbed her things and loaded them in. I tried to tell the driver not to leave. I think he thought I was crazy, and I admit it probably looked that way. Despite my efforts he closed the door on me and drove away. I immediately went to the house she had pointed to. I found the man and the children, who were thankfully fine, though the man has a deep bruise on the side of his head from where she had hit him. I called the police and waited with the family.
The husband explained how he had noticed his wife's behavior in recent weeks, and said that he thought that she had taken on too much work. When he came upon her last night, she reacted much the same way she described, up until the point where she had gone to the car. The man had headed upstairs and checked on the kids, only leaving when he heard the sound of glass breaking. When he reached the garage he saw her attacking the car with the bat. When he tried to stop her she swung at him.
The police arrived soon after that, and I shared with them what I knew. This all happened rather recently, so I am unsure as to how things have turned out. I am sorry if this isn't all that clear, but I still am struggling with the events that I experienced. It has left me feeling nervous, and I feel like I am being watched.