Submission Saturday--Paranormal Short Story

Submission Saturday

Paranormal Short Story

So, this week we only had one person enter. :( But we're more than happy to get to reading Sarah R.'s story. Check it out below!

Here's how it works: After reading the story, tell Sarah what you think about it and if you have any suggestions for improvement. You can write as little or as much as you want. However, unnecessary, negative comments will be deleted. If you already know how to critique stories, go for it! If you need a little help, here's a sample outline you can use if you want:

Initial Reaction:
What are your views on:
Characterization?
Plot?
Writing?
Setting/Set up?
What do you like about it?
Anything you think needs to be improved on?
Any errors or anything writing-wise that you noticed?
Any suggestions?
Overall:

Remember: Your comments can be on anything. How much you loved it, only the writing, only the story, only the characterization, etc. Or everything all together.

All right, onto the short story!

By Sarah R. [The following material is copyright to Sarah.] 

He’s decided that he won’t drink anything for at least two hours before he goes to bed. Maybe that would stop him from waking up and he would sleep through an entire night for once. He raised his arm as he felt for the light switch around the corner and froze. Another man stood in his kitchen, silhouetted by the moon in his back door window.

He found his senses, fumbled for the light switch till his clumsy hands found it, and illuminated the hall. The light spread to where the figure stood but no one was there. Barely thinking, he called out the name of his landlord. He was the only one that should have a key and he knew the doors were locked. He was the only one he knew that could come up with a barely logical reason as to why he’s in his home so late at night, standing so casually.

He took a step forward and immediately regretted it as a floor board groaned underneath him, stealing the sounds he wasn’t making from his ears. Though he was sure that he didn’t hear any sound anyways, he was only seeing things. He blamed it on his lack of sleep, or perhaps it was a fading memory of an interrupted dream. Still, he resolved to go back to bed instead of finishing his trip down the hall.

He shut off the lights and the man came back, closer now. They were sharing the same room. Quicker this time he flipped the lights again and he was gone. Not once did he look away from where he stood. The man had nowhere to go. He had nowhere to hide in the mere seconds that it took him to turn up the lights, nowhere to go that he couldn’t see him.

He knew what he saw, but it was just his eyes he told himself. They’re still adjusting to the light. His sleepy brain is playing games with him. He reached out to shut off the lights for the final time but his hand just hovered over it before letting it fall back to his side leaving it untouched. He shook his head and turned away, almost rushing toward his room and pretending to ignore the chill he felt at his door.