I sat in my bed, staring at my wall while glancing at my phone every few minutes. I wanted to just drop the phone and fall asleep, but I was not going to let myself. I was bored out of my mind but had to wait. I wanted to do something with somebody, but I needed to get my dogs from my dad. I had left them at his house the day before as I was not going to be home, and being a sixteen-year-old, I chose my friends over my responsibilities.
My dad was cool with taking them for a while, but he called me today and said that he had to drop them back off at my mom’s place where I was staying. She had been traveling to Canada for a business trip, so I was home alone to watch the dogs. They were great dogs, one greatly overweight with knotted, light fur. She was a Cocker Spaniel, so she was very small. My other dog was even tinier, looking like an old man as his brown and black colors faded into a white and gray. I slid open my phone, ready to ask him if he was still coming....
“Are you still coming over with the dogs?” I quickly sent.
I pressed the off button, sloppily shoving the phone in my pocket. Instantly after doing this, I heard my doorbell ring. I winced as the loud sound filled my house with an echo. I quickly jumped out of my bed and ran out of my door. I almost fell down the steps as I ran on them. I could not see my dad from the side glass on the door, but I knew for sure it was him. I heard Cujo, the smaller one, pawing at the door. I knew it was him only by the fact that Daisy, the other dog, never does this. She always prefers idiotically running at the door and smashing her face into it, trying to get it open. I reached out to open the door before I saw something in the corner of my eye, making me freeze my hand. I could see a man’s hand slightly in the view of the glass. The hand was very pale, unlike my dad’s hand which was a lot darker. As soon as I looked to the hand to further inspect it, the man quickly shoved it back to himself. What I thought was Cujo began scratching at the door again. I waited a few seconds to see what would happen. The scratches got louder and louder as I realized if I tried to leave the man might see me in the glass and do something like shoot through, realizing only a teenager was inside and not an adult. I decided to stay there until he left, which didn’t feel like it was going to happen soon. The scratches got louder and louder as time went on. Suddenly, they stopped.
“Sorry, I brought a friend over. He’s just trying to scare you!” Cujo stopped scratching at the door. “It’s just Mike,” I heard in what was clearly my dad’s voice.
As I sighed in relief and got up to open the door, I heard my phone ding in my pocket, signaling that I received a text. I pulled the phone out of my pocket to check quickly, sliding my finger across the screen to unlock it. I saw a text from my dad.
“What are you talking about? The dogs are being taken care of by your grandmother at my place still. I’ve been at work for a few hours already,” his text read.
Shocked, I turned to look through the glass. No one was at my door, and no one was running away from it; no one had been there at all.
