Independent Publishing and Video Productions

    That night, I was woken up suddenly by the sounds of scratching. I peeked at my phone to see the time, and it was one in the morning. I groaned, annoyed at the loud neighbors. Turning onto my back, I focused on the scraping. After a moment, I realized it didn’t sound like the neighbors at all. Where was that coming from? I closed my eyes and tried to get back to sleep. However, the scratching, like that of deep, heavy claws, kept going. The more it scratched, the heavier and louder it got. I shot open my eyes and sat up in bed. 

     What is that?

     It sounded as though, whatever it was, was digging into a hard surface like wood. I peered over at Ted, and he was still fast asleep. I got out of bed in search of its source. Nowhere in our apartment could I locate the sound. I opened our front door, and once I stepped out into the hallway, the sound ceased. I went back inside, and the scraping continued. 

     We lived on the top floor, and there was no attic to my knowledge. Perhaps there was someone on the roof making this noise. I went back into bed but still sat up awake from the mysterious sound. At this point, I was becoming nervous. Was I imagining this? I picked at the hem of my blankets and tried to take deep breaths in order to calm my rapid, beating heart. 

     The noise kept getting louder, and my nerves were so shot that I decided to wake Ted up. “Teddy, hon,” I whispered. He didn’t stir awake, so I bent down lower towards his ear and called out his name. 

     Still no answer.