She slowly turned the knob.
The door creaked.
Her heart was racing—fast, too fast.
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Somehow, she gathered the courage to push the door open just a bit and peep inside.
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She saw nothing suspicious—
When suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder from behind.
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"Sammy, what are you up to?" said Mrs. Smith.
"You’d better hurry up and get dressed. It’s almost time for school."
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"Yes, Mom," Sammy mumbled, still shaken.
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Mrs. Smith narrowed her eyes.
"May I ask you what exactly—"
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"Mom, I heard something... from the bathroom. I think there’s something in there."
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"I beg your pardon? Something in your bathroom? What do you mean by that?"
Her mother stared at her, eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.
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"I swear, Mom—I heard it. Something was inside."
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Mrs. Smith sighed, then stepped closer to the door still hanging slightly ajar behind her daughter.
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Sammy focused on the crack in the doorway, bracing herself for something—anything—horrible to happen.
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With a gentle push, Mrs. Smith opened the door wide—
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And just then, a black figure leapt out at them.
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Sammy screamed and stumbled backward, colliding into her mother.
Mrs. Smith instinctively wrapped her arms around her daughter—
Only to realize the dark figure was none other than their black, furry cat.
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Mr. Waffles.
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The cat meowed dramatically and strutted past their legs as if nothing had happened.
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"See, Sammy? It’s just Mr. Waffles," Mrs. Smith said with a tired smile.
"Come, sit on the bed."
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Sammy sat down, still trying to catch her breath.
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"It’s all in your head," her mother continued gently.
"You saw it yourself, didn’t you? That’s why I keep telling you to stop watching those horror podcasts—you’re imagining things."
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She handed Sammy a glass of water from the bedside table.
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"Drink this."
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Sammy took a sip.
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"Now get dressed and come downstairs in fifteen minutes," Mrs. Smith said as she left the room.
Mr. Waffles followed her out with a flick of his tail.
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Sammy closed the door behind them, locked it, and headed into the bathroom.
She splashed cold water on her face, combed her hair into a neat ponytail, and put on her school uniform.
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Back in her room, she packed her bag—when suddenly, her phone rang.
It was her friend, Diana.
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"Sammy, are you out for school yet?"
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"Not yet, but I was just about to leave."
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"Great! Don’t pack a heavy lunch—Tira’s throwing a party. She won the tournament!"
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"Oh! But why didn’t she tell me herself?"
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"She will, I guess. Just giving you a heads-up. I’ve gotta run or I’ll be late."
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As the call ended, Sammy noticed a text pop up on her screen.
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From Tira:
“Party during lunch :)”
All excited, Sammy grabbed her bag, slipped the phone into her pocket, and ran downstairs.
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Mr. Smith was standing at the doorway alongside Mrs. Smith, ready to head out for work.
Sammy gave them both a quick hug, her eyes scanning the hallway for her brother.
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He was there—already dressed for school, standing quietly near the staircase.
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Sammy gave him a cheerful wave.
He nodded back, silent as ever.
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"Come on, Ricky!" she called out.
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Together, the siblings stepped out into the morning light, the door clicking shut behind them.
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As they walked down the street toward school, Sammy couldn’t help glancing back at the house once.
Just once.
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The curtains on the upstairs window fluttered—though none of the windows were open.
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