She thought she was alone....she was wrong

She Thought She Was Alone

Mara had always loved the silence of the house when everyone was gone. It was a rare moment, just her, the creaks of the old wooden floors, and the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. With her family away for the weekend, Mara finally had time to relax—no chores, no distractions, just peace. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, the air in the house grew cold, and she felt something shift.

It began as a faint sound—like a whisper—coming from somewhere upstairs. Mara stopped, holding her breath. She told herself it was nothing. The house was old; it settled at night. Yet, the sensation lingered, clawing at the back of her mind.

She glanced toward the staircase, her heart beating a little faster. The house, though large, felt too quiet now. Too still. She laughed softly, dismissing the thought as silly. Still, she couldn’t shake the sense that something—or someone—was watching her.

"Get a grip," she muttered, walking toward the kitchen. She flicked on the light and opened the fridge.

The sound was louder now—closer. A slow shuffle, then a soft tap against the wall.

Mara froze.

Her hand gripped the fridge door tighter. “Okay, maybe I just imagined it,” she whispered to herself, but even she didn’t believe her words.

She took a deep breath and moved toward the staircase, her feet echoing in the empty house. As she reached the base of the stairs, the silence enveloped her like a thick fog. Another tap. This time, from the second floor.

Her stomach twisted. She wasn’t alone. Someone was up there.

She turned and grabbed her phone, about to call her mom, but her finger hovered above the screen. What if it was a prank? What if it was one of her friends playing some sick joke?

But then she remembered. Her friends were all out of town. Her parents wouldn’t be back until late Sunday night. She was alone.

The tap came again, more distinct this time. It was as though something was dragging its feet along the floor above her.

The decision came faster than she expected—she had to go check. Heart racing, Mara ascended the staircase, each step creaking beneath her weight. She tried to control her breathing, but it was impossible. The chill in the air deepened with each step she took. At the top of the stairs, Mara hesitated.

Her eyes scanned the hallway. Everything seemed normal. The shadows in the corners danced as the faint light from the living room flickered, casting eerie shapes on the walls.

Then, a door creaked open.

Mara’s breath caught in her throat.

It was her brother’s room. But no one should be in there. She was sure of it. She hadn’t seen her brother in days—he was at a friend’s house. No one had been in this house since she arrived, alone.

Her feet moved on their own accord as she stepped closer, a slow, agonizing crawl toward the door. The room was dark, save for the flickering light from the hallway.

The door opened wider, revealing a figure standing at the window. A shadow—tall, hunched, and still.

Mara’s blood ran cold. She tried to scream but her throat constricted, the air thick with dread. The figure turned, its face hidden in the dark, but Mara could feel its gaze. It was like being pinned under the weight of an invisible force.

“Who are you?” she managed to croak, her voice barely above a whisper.

The figure took a step forward. Another.

Then, a voice—soft, like the rustling of dead leaves in a long-forgotten grave—whispered, “You shouldn’t have come up here.”

Mara’s heart pounded as a cold hand brushed against her arm, sending a shockwave of ice through her veins. She jerked away, stumbling backward. Her body crashed against the wall, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the figure.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut, and the house seemed to come alive with noise—the sound of dragging feet, knocking, tapping—growing louder, more frantic. Mara spun around, and for the first time, she noticed the dark stains on the walls. Black marks, smeared, as if someone—or something—had been here, pacing in the dark.

Her mind screamed for her to run, but her legs felt like lead. The whispers grew louder, like voices from the other side of a veil. A thousand voices, all talking at once, but none of them made sense.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. The house fell silent again.

Mara stood in the dark, trembling, feeling the weight of unseen eyes on her.

It was then that she heard the softest whisper in her ear.

“Don’t turn around.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t need to look. She already knew.

She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.