Someone who is waiting for you outside the door

The wind howled through the trees, a banshee wail that sent shivers down Clara’s spine. She adjusted the collar of her sweater, trying to ward off the chill that crept through the drafty old house. It had been a long day, filled with packing up her childhood home after her mother’s passing. Now, as twilight descended, the shadows stretched and warped in the corners of the dimly lit rooms, giving life to the whispering rumors of the house.

Clara’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. A message from her best friend, Lila: Just checking in. You okay? Clara replied with a quick thumbs-up emoji, not wanting to burden her friend with the weight of grief.

But truth be told, she wasn’t okay. The house felt suffocatingly empty, the silence pressing in on her. She moved to the kitchen, the smell of old wood and dust heavy in the air. As she poured herself a cup of tea, the kettle whistled, shrill against the quiet, and then the sudden knock came.

It was loud and jarring. Clara jumped, spilling hot water on her hand. Cursing, she wiped her palm on her jeans and walked toward the front door, the noise echoing in her ears. Who could it be at this hour? She peered through the peephole, her heart racing.

Nothing but darkness greeted her.

“Hello?” she called, voice wavering. “Who’s there?”

Silence answered. Clara hesitated, unease twisting in her stomach. It was probably just a neighbor checking on her, but the darkness outside felt foreboding, almost alive.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door a crack, peeking out. The night air was cold, and the street was deserted, lit only by the flickering lamp at the end of the path. Just as she was about to close the door, she caught a glimpse of movement—a figure standing at the edge of the yard, barely visible in the shadows.

“Hey! Do you need something?” Clara called out, her voice a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

The figure turned slightly, and for a moment, Clara thought she recognized the shape—a familiar stance. But as the wind rustled the trees, the figure faded back into the shadows. A knot formed in Clara's stomach. She was too tired for this.

Shaking her head, she closed the door and locked it, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that clung to her.

As she returned to the kitchen, the unease settled like a heavy blanket. She tried to distract herself with the remnants of packing, but her mind kept drifting back to the door. The knock had rattled her, and now, she felt like a child hiding from the dark.

Another knock resounded, louder this time, echoing through the stillness. Clara jumped, her heart racing as she turned back to the door. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She opened it fully, ready to confront whoever was out there.

And there he stood.

The man was tall, with a hooded coat that concealed most of his features. His face was shadowed, but Clara could make out the outline of a familiar profile. “Clara,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Who are you?” she managed, a shiver racing down her spine.

He stepped forward, and the flickering light caught a glimpse of his face. It was someone she had known long ago—Daniel, her childhood friend. The boy she had spent countless summers with, the one who had vanished one stormy night a decade ago.

“Daniel?” she whispered, disbelief mingling with fear. “But you... you disappeared. I thought...”

“I came back,” he interrupted, eyes glinting in the dim light. “I came back for you.”

“Why? What do you want?” Clara’s heart raced as she took a step back, the memories flooding her mind—horrific images of search parties, endless nights filled with tears and unanswered questions.

“Don’t be scared, Clara. I just need you to let me in. There’s something I need to show you.”

A cold breeze swept past her, sending a shiver down her spine. The air felt charged, heavy with an unspoken tension. Clara hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at her.

“I don’t understand. You... you were gone.”

Daniel stepped closer, the shadows deepening around him. “I’ve been trapped, Clara. You need to help me. Just open the door. We can be together again.”

Clara’s mind raced. It felt wrong. Everything in her screamed to slam the door, to lock him out, but the familiar tone in his voice pulled at her heartstrings. Memories of laughter and carefree days together tugged at her.

“Why should I trust you?” she asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“Because I’m still the same person. I promise I won’t hurt you.” His eyes locked onto hers, a flicker of desperation hidden behind the shadows. “But time is running out. If you don’t let me in, I might be lost forever.”

Clara’s breath hitched. She wanted to believe him, to reclaim a piece of her childhood, but a part of her screamed that this wasn’t right. She stepped back, shaking her head. “No, I can’t. I can’t do this.”

The darkness around Daniel shifted, swirling like smoke. “You don’t understand, Clara! I need you! You’re the only one who can free me!” His voice rose, filled with urgency.

With a sudden jolt, Clara slammed the door shut, locking it tight. Her heart raced as she leaned against the door, breath coming in quick gasps. She turned to the living room, but the shadows seemed to shift and sway as if mocking her decision.

The knock came again, softer now, almost pleading. “Clara, please. I’m still here. I’m waiting.”

The words echoed in her mind, a ghostly refrain. For the first time, Clara felt the weight of her grief and guilt pressing down on her. She had never been able to let go of Daniel, the unanswered questions haunting her.

“What if he’s telling the truth?” she whispered to herself, torn between fear and longing.

But as she stared at the door, something deep inside her knew. This wasn’t Daniel. The boy she had known was gone, lost to time and tragedy.

The knocking turned frantic, desperation creeping into his voice. “Clara! You have to let me in! I can’t stay out here!”

“No!” she shouted back, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re not him! You can’t be!”

Silence fell, thick and oppressive. Clara held her breath, straining to hear. And then, she felt it—a presence pressing against the door, the weight of someone on the other side, pushing against her resolve.

“Clara, please,” he whispered again, the voice trembling, filled with a raw desperation that twisted her heart. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

The door trembled as if it were alive, and Clara’s heart raced. The memories of their friendship surged through her—adventures, laughter, a bond that had been severed too soon.

“Why did you leave me?” she cried, her voice breaking. “Why did you have to go?”

“Because I had to find my way back to you,” he replied softly, almost tenderly. “You were my light, Clara. You still are.”

The door shook again, and Clara felt the fragile grip on her sanity slip. She didn’t want to be alone. Not now, not ever. But letting him in felt like stepping into a trap, an abyss from which she might never return.

With a surge of defiance, she spoke through her tears. “You’re not real! You can’t just come back like this!”

There was a pause, and then the voice turned cold. “You think I’m not real? I’m right here. I’m waiting for you.”

The shadows coiled around the room, suffocating her. Clara staggered back, her pulse racing. She needed to make a choice, and the weight of the decision bore down on her.

“Clara,” he said again, the voice shifting, darkening. “You can’t escape this. You can’t escape me.”

Clara pressed her back against the wall, the chill of the house wrapping around her like a shroud. She thought of her mother, of the warmth of family, and the pain of loss. She thought of Daniel—who he had been and had become.

And then, in that moment of clarity, she made her choice.

“No,” she whispered fiercely, her voice steadying. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re just a memory. I won’t let you in.”

The door shuddered violently, the knocking turning into a cacophony of screams and cries, reverberating through the wood. But Clara stood firm, heart racing, anchored by her resolve.

“I won’t be trapped again,” she cried, and with that declaration, the noises outside began to fade, the shadows receding.

In the stillness that followed, Clara felt the air shift, the oppressive weight lifting. She took a deep breath, tears still in her eyes, but a sense of calm washed over her.

She turned away from the door and stepped into the living room, the warmth of her memories flooding back. The night had fallen silent, and though the darkness still clung to the edges of her mind, she felt a flicker of hope.

As she glanced back at the door one last time, she understood the truth: some doors were meant to stay closed. As the shadows faded into the corners, Clara knew that while the past might linger, she was ready to face her future.