The Light Was Never For Us

**The Light Was Never For Us**
*(A Horror Short Story – 1,200 words)*

---

### **11:47 PM**
The porch light was still on when Mara pulled into the driveway.

That was the rule: *Leave it on until I’m home.*

But she hadn’t expected Liam to remember. Not tonight. Not after what she’d said to him.

The rain came down in sheets, turning the gravel drive into a slurry of mud. Mara killed the engine and sat for a moment, watching the light flicker behind the downpour. It pulsed weakly, like a dying heartbeat.

She should’ve been home hours ago.

Liam had texted her twice—*Where are you?* and then, thirty minutes later, *You’re being an idiot.* Classic older brother concern, wrapped in annoyance. She hadn’t answered.

Now, the house loomed ahead, its windows dark except for that single, stubborn bulb above the door.

Mara took a breath and stepped out into the storm.

---

### **12:22 AM**
The inside of the house smelled like burnt coffee and wet dog.

"Liam?" she called, shaking rain from her jacket. No answer.

The kitchen light was on, the sink full of dishes. A half-empty mug sat on the counter, still warm.

Then she saw the note on the fridge, written in Liam’s messy scrawl:

*"Gone for a walk. Don’t wait up."*

Mara frowned. *Gone.* He’d misspelled it. Liam never misspelled things.

She pulled out her phone and texted him:

*Where the hell are you? It’s pouring.*

Her phone buzzed instantly. A missed call notification popped up—*Liam, 12:21 AM.*

But… that was impossible.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out Liam’s phone, its screen glowing with her own unanswered text.

Her stomach dropped.

If Liam wasn’t here… and he didn’t have his phone…

Then who had just called her?

---

### **1:15 AM**
The rain grew heavier, hammering against the roof.

Mara paced the living room, chewing her thumbnail. Liam wasn’t the type to just disappear. Not like this. Not after their fight.

*"You don’t get to act like you care now,"* she’d snapped at him earlier. *"Not after what you did."*

A gust of wind rattled the windows.

Then—a sound.

A slow, deliberate *scrape* against the back door.

Mara froze.

"Liam?" she called, forcing her voice steady.

No answer.

She grabbed the flashlight from the drawer and crept toward the kitchen. The porch light’s glow bled through the window, warped by the rain-streaked glass.

The scraping came again.

Mara’s fingers tightened around the flashlight. She took a step forward—

And the bulb outside *shattered*.

Darkness swallowed the porch.

Her breath came fast now. She flicked on the flashlight, its beam cutting through the black.

Something moved in the backyard.

A shadow. Tall. Too tall.

It darted behind the oak tree.

Mara’s pulse pounded in her ears. She took a step back—and her foot hit something wet.

She looked down.

Muddy footprints. Leading *into* the house.

And they weren’t Liam’s.

---

### **2:03 AM**
The power went out with a hum.

Mara stood in the pitch-black kitchen, gripping the flashlight like a weapon. The beam trembled as she swept it across the room.

The footprints led down the hallway.

Toward Liam’s room.

She forced herself to follow them, her socks slipping on the hardwood. The house creaked around her, the wind howling through the cracks.

Then—a whisper.

*"You left the light on."*

Mara spun.

The voice had come from behind her. But the hallway was empty.

Her hands shook. That hadn’t been Liam’s voice. It had been… wrong. Garbled. Like something trying to mimic human speech.

A floorboard groaned upstairs.

Mara bolted for the closet under the stairs, squeezing inside and pulling the door shut behind her. The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating.

She fumbled for her phone, her fingers slipping on the screen.

*Call Liam. Call Liam. Call—*

A shadow passed under the door.

Mara held her breath.

The doorknob *turned*.

---

### **3:41 AM**
She swung the bat the second the door opened.

"Jesus, Mara!" Liam caught it just before it cracked his skull, his eyes wide. "It’s *me*!"

Mara nearly collapsed. "Where the *hell* were you?"

"I went out looking for you!" Liam hissed, dragging her out of the closet. "You weren’t answering your phone, and then I heard something in the woods—"

"You *left*? After what happened last time—"

A floorboard creaked above them.

Both of them went still.

Liam’s grip on her arm tightened. "We need to go. *Now.*"

They ran for the front door. Mara yanked it open—

And the porch light flickered back on.

Illuminating the figure standing on the lawn.

It was tall. Too tall. Its limbs bent at impossible angles, its head cocked to one side. Rain slid off its skin like oil.

And it was *smiling*.

Liam slammed the door. "Back window. *Go.*"

---

### **Dawn**
They didn’t stop driving until the sun rose.

Mara sat in the passenger seat, clutching Liam’s phone. The screen lit up with a notification—their home security system.

*Front door cam: Motion detected (11:47 PM).*

She opened it.

The photo showed her stepping inside the house, her back to the camera.

And behind her, bathed in the porch light’s glow, the thing that had been waiting.

Watching.

*Smiling.*

Liam’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "It’s still there."

Mara didn’t answer.

Because she knew the truth now.

The light hadn’t been left on for her.

It had been left on for *it*.

And it was still waiting.