Like every day, I picked up my son from kindergarten. He was cheerful, waving a sheet of paper at me and proudly saying:
“Mom, I drew our house!” I smiled and took the paper. But as soon as I looked at it, the smile disappeared from my face.
The drawing really was our house. But it wasn’t just the two of us.
There was… a third person standing in the window. “Love… who is this?” I asked, trying not to let my voice tremble.
My son looked at me in confusion. “Well, mom… it’s that man who watches us every night!” I froze. “What kind of man?”
“The one standing at the window smiling. He said he didn’t mind you not seeing him.” “WHAT?!”
A wave of chills ran through me. We had no neighbors.
And we lived on the THIRD FLOOR. I didn’t sleep that night. Then I heard a knock.
And it wasn’t coming from the door. It was coming… from the window.
My hands shook as I slowly turned my head toward the window. The darkness was thick, the street deserted. But then… then I saw him.
A face. A white, distorted face that was laughing. There was no reflection. There was no glass between us.
Just that eerie smile… and eyes that were looking directly at me. I screamed and ran to my son, grabbed him out of bed, and ran into the hallway. My heart was racing.
At that moment… the pounding stopped. The next day I called a repairman to inspect the window. When he opened it, it froze.
“Madam… this is impossible.” “What is it?” I asked, feeling a lump in my throat.
He looked at me seriously. “This window… hasn’t been opened in years. It’s sealed from the inside. NO ONE could have been on the other side.”