THE ATTIC WINDOW

By Reid FitzHugh
I havent slept very well for months now.
Usually I cant sleep at all, and when I can, I have nightmares that make me wish Id stayed
awake. Ive told so many people about what happened in my old bedroom, but no one believes
me. They all say the same things, over and over. Its your imagination. You were tired, you
were seeing things. Its all in your head.
But I know better.
I know what I saw wasnt in my imagination. If it was, why can I still hear that sound? Why can I
still hear that slow scraping sound, slow yet forceful, in my dreams every night?
No, it was real.
It started when me and my parents moved into a new house. My dad had gotten transferred
because of his job, so we moved to this old house in the middle of nowhere. I was creeped out
right when I got the front door.
The house was fairly small, but that didnt matter. It loomed over me, its shadow threatening to
swallow me up. The paint was peeling, and what remained had turned a vomitlike shade of
green. The shutters on the windows were falling off, and at least a couple of them were broken.
The most defining feature, however, was the attic window.
On the top of the house, there was a massive boarded-up window. The boards looked like they
had been there for a while, covered in moss and rot.
Whatever it was, it creeped me out.
We stood out there for a while, taking in the scene. It was a long time before anyone said
anything. After a while, my mom said something:
Well, its a real fixer-upper, isnt it?
Ha ha ha.
We went into the house using the key the realtor had given us. When my dad opened the door,
a shower of dust erupted. It got in my eyes, and it really itched.
Aside from that, though, the place looked much better on the inside than the outside. The
furniture was all intact, and the place looked very neat and clean aside from the dust. It was as if
whoever lived here just disappeared, leaving all their possessions behind.
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The house looked fairly unremarkable throughout, it seemed pretty normal for the most part, if a
bit old-fashioned. The only real problem was when we opened an old fridge, and there was a
bunch of rotten food inside. I was thinking, I could get used to this.
Eventually, I went up the stairs to check out the attic. My parents were busy on the phone with
the exterminator, so I pretty much had the house to myself. I tried to open the door, but it was
stuck. After a bit of effort, though, I was able to get it open.
The attic was much larger than I was expecting it to be, and much less cluttered as well. The
only thing in the room was a small, neatly folded bed tucked into the corner of the room. As I
approached the bed to brush off the dust, I turned my head toward the window.
It was the same window Id seen from outside the house. It was huge, at least twice my height.
What confused me was that there were boards on the inside of the window. Isnt boarding up a
window normally supposed to keep people from getting into old houses?
At the time, I just passed it off as a harmless oddity of the house. Every house has one. You
know, like a squeaky hinge, or a missing cupboard door, or something like that.
That would change, come that night.
Ive had frequent insomnia for as long as I can remember, almost every night, and its only
gotten worse since that. That night was no exception.
After much begging, I had gotten my parents to let me claim the attic as my bedroom.
I couldnt sleep. My mind kept wandering, and I was tossing and turning on the bed. I started
doing random things to pass the time until morning, like counting the amount of paint flecks on
the wall, or counting nonexistent sheep in my head. This happened a lot, and I would pass out
eventually from sheer exhaustion.
Not this time.
Just when I was about to fall asleep, I heard a faint, but still clearly audible sound.
Sssscccrrrkkkk
I thought it was just a mouse, but then it came again.
Sssscccrrrkkkk
It sounded like someone scraping their fingernails on a board. It kept going over, and over, and
over. Just when I was about to nod off, the scraping resumed, and I was jolted awake.
In my tired state, my mind ran wild with the possibilities. Was it just a mouse, or was it some
terrifying boogeyman, come to steal me away in my sleep?
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At the time, I thought that was stupid, but I would come to realize just how wrong I was.
Eventually, the sun streamed in through the boarded window, and the scraping finally stopped.

I wouldve jumped for joy, but at that point I was much too exhausted.
This continued for a while. I wouldnt be able to sleep because the scraping sound kept going
throughout the night. If anything, it got more frequent as the days went on.
After three days, I borrowed my dads tape recorder. When he asked what it was for, I said it
was for a school project. He raised an eyebrow, but gave it to me anyway.
That night, before climbing into bed, I set the recorder next to the window and pressed the
button. The scraping sound came again, as I had come to expect. I played the waiting game,
listening for the scraping sound, but this time would turn out differently.
It happened, but much less frequently than I had grown used to. Despite my efforts, I was able
to fall asleep. When I woke up, I groaned in exasperation.
The tape recorder was laying on the ground, shattered. I rushed over to it, and amid the various
bits of plastic, I saw something that terrified me.
On the largest piece of the recorder, there were clear claw marks, gouged into the hard plastic.
We didnt have a cat or a dog, so their presence mystified me. It couldnt have been a mouse,
the marks were too deep, and they looked too jagged.
After apologizing for the tape recorder, I tried telling him about the scraping sound. He thought it
was nothing, saying to show him proof.
Well, Id give him proof, but it certainly wouldnt be worth it.
After a couple nights of waiting, the scraping sounds returned in full force. They were getting
louder and louder now, and more frequent too. I thought they were just going to keep coming,
and I started to get used to them again.
Then I heard breathing.
It was a labored, raspy sound, and it went on longer than any breath Id heard before. I had the
impression of a dying animal, trying to cling desperately to life. It was utterly dreadful to listen to.
I had planned to go up and look through the window that night, but I was completely terrified
after hearing that. I was frozen in my bed, hoping dearly that whatever was out there, couldnt
get to me.
When I went downstairs that morning, my eyes were bloodshot. My parents asked me what was
wrong. Predictably, they didnt believe me at all.
The sounds kept getting worse. My eyes began to ache more and more, and I was getting more
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tired and weak by the day. My doctor correctly diagnosed it with sleep deprivation, and
prescribed some medication.

When night came, however, I palmed it.

I was terrified that if I fell asleep, whatever was at the window would come in.
The night after the prescription, I finally worked up the nerve to go up to the window. For some
reason, the scraping and that awful breathing had ceased.
I tiptoed over to the tall, imposing glass pane, and peered into the one of the gaps between the
boards.
I saw nothing but pitch black darkness. Not even any stars, or a reflection of the moon, or the
tiles of the roof.
Just nothing.
The longer I peered into it, the more uneasy I became. I started feeling a feeling of impending
dread. Like, if I stood there long enough, I would be drawn into that unending black abyss
An eye opened.
There was a big, red, pulsating eye staring back at me through the window!
I was frozen in shock. I couldnt even scream, let alone move away from the window! That eye
kept staring right at me, its gaze rooting me to the spot.
The breathing increased in volume, getting faster and faster, and more laborious with each
passing moment.
All of a sudden, hands began to appear from the void! They reached out as fast as lightning,
through the gaps in the boards! I tried to run away, but they were too quick, the clawing
appendages grabbed by arms and slammed me back against the window!
I screamed for help at the top of my lungs! I screamed and screamed, but no one was coming!
The hands tore through my shirt and into my shoulder with their sharp, jagged claws, blood
dripping onto the floor. I was stuck to the window, I couldnt move any part of my body! My heart
raced as I frantically struggled to escape, but it was no use!
The breathing was replaced with a deafening, guttural roar, that reverbrated through my
eardrums! My head felt like it was going to explode!
A large, undulating mouth emerged from the black abyss, gnashing and salivating over what it
was about to recieve. It was filled with rows and rows of uneven, sharp teeth, in all different
shapes and sizes! Countless tongues flicked over them over and over, reaching towards me!
The unholy maw of the creature opened and snapped shut again and again, each time coming
closer
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to my terrified body!

I wailed and screamed at the top of my lungs, for someone, anyone to help! But, nobody came!
The mouth was getting closer and closer to me every moment, I could smell its breath, its rotting
stench invaded my nostrils. I could barely breathe, I was gagging violently. As the creature
reached the window, an inch from my face, I shut my eyes, anticipating something very painfulThen it stopped.
The hands withdrew, rushing back into the dark void on the other side of the window. I dropped
to the ground, breathing heavily. I looked toward the window, and
Bright, yellow beams of sunlight slid through the gaps in the boards.
A smile stretched across my face as I passed out from exhaustion.
Nobody believed me about that thing, whatever it was.
I refused to sleep in that room until we moved.
If you dont believe me, thats fine. I wouldnt have believed me either if I hadnt experienced it.
But if you do, then theres one piece of advice I have for you.
If you find something that you just cant explain, like an oddly shaped door, or a hidden room in
a house, or an uncharted cave near your house
Stay away.
Because, theres always the chance that theres something lurking behind it
That youd have been better off not knowing about.

The Hands Resist Him - Bill Stoneham

The Reaching Darkness- Me