Lit Mag

The Endless Footsteps

“Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom” 
There it goes again. I was in the protective covering of my bed sheets, but at that moment, they didn’t feel so safe. My teeth started to chatter, and the blood in my veins ran cold as my hands and feet were all nearly frozen. 
“Woooosh, woooooooosh,” the wind outside swept furiously, and the tree branches next to the facade of the house scratched along the squeaky windows. It didn’t help to calm me down at all, in fact, it made me more scared. 
Curled in a cozy ball in my lap, Fergie, my six year old yellow lab slept heavily, snoring a little, and drooling all over the sheets. I just didn’t get how he did it. This was the fourth time that those weird noises had shaken me up. It was almost like footsteps that would pound on the carpeted floor. 
Adding to the fact that it was already midnight, I would assume that my parents who were two bedrooms down from mine were aware of such a thing. Probably already snoring, while I was trembling out of myself.
“Pss, pss, pss, pss, pss” another sound echoed from the downstairs level, almost like two intruders were able to find a way in and and were ferociously whispering about their plan to ransack the place. 
I quickly threw my covers to the side and quietly tiptoed to the other side of my bedroom, where there was a baseball at from when I was in a league back in elementary school. My hands were trembling as I gripped the handle. After a few seconds, it already had a solid coating of sweat that had been transferred from my hands. Thankfully, my bedroom had carpet flooring, which wouldn’t make as much noise, but I immediately jumped into bed, and hid under the covers so that from the outside, it was as if there was a huge mound of dirty laundry underne-
“Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom,” there it goes again. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to see what was causing all this noise at such early hours.
I stared into Fergie’s eyes, which were closed, and even though he was sleeping, I swore to him that I would do this for us, and no matter what, I will come back to feed him treats, and the scraps under the table. I tried stalling further, but after counting to thirty at the speed of a slug, and collected my courage, and slid my feet out of the bed sheets so that they were hanging off the side of the bed. I recoiled them, because it felt as if they were exposed and at any second, there would be something from under my bed to chomp at them. Then, I remembered my promise to Fergie, and quickly scooted off my warm bed, sure that it would be my last time there.
I slid my door open, and to my disappointment, it started to creak. However, I continued to do so, as that was the only way out, unless I jumped off my window which was useless. Outside in the corridors, it was dimly lit with only a night lamp shining luminous in the corner. I stumbled to the edge of the stairs and heavily leaned on the railings, looking down, which had my view almost to the kitchen.
“Cruuuunch, cruuuunch,” it was definitely coming from the kitchen. 
One by one, I sneaked down the stairs, with my back to the kitchen so that the intruders would not recognize a face. When I got to the first level and slowly turned, I couldn’t believe what I saw. 
My parents. My parents at the kitchen table. But not only that, the table was not empty. It was filled with snacks. Snacks! Of all kinds, in fact, there were wrappers from candy bars, popcorn kernels on the floor, all kinds of soft drinks, and several tubs of icecream.
Not being able to speak, my parents initiated the move first, and gave me a sheepish smile, and that’s when I knew what my parents were up to at nights.

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