The next night I heard it again.
|This is my first year in college. Time to discover myself without the constant hovering of my brothers. Both of them went to college too close to home to justify spending money on dorms. Not me though; I picked a college that I knew would give me the freedom to live away from my family. Don't get me wrong, I love them and call them almost every day, but being the baby sister was starting to feel suffocating.
My parents, being the amazing people they are, set me up with an apartment near campus. It's actually cheaper than living in residence, and I get to avoid the potential roommate disaster that a lot of my friends are going through. It's a cozy one bedroom with a gorgeous view and I couldn't be happier. Well, maybe I could.
About a week ago I got woken up by a loud smack on my window. It sounded like something flew right into it, but nothing should have been out there in the middle of the night. I was too tired to question it and wrote it off as either a dream or a bat. Poor thing could have been sick.
The next night I heard it again. This time it was two smacks instead of one. I didn't bother getting up and looking. I was far too scared and hid under the covers. I know, I know...blankets can't protect you from the boogeyman and stuff, but it was comforting. I called my mom in the morning and she reassured me that it was probably a group of bats. I was skeptical, but moms can make anything sound convincing. Dad ended up driving down to visit me and it took my mind off of all the stress.
It's now been six nights and seven days since I started hearing the sound. It's gotten worse each time, and it carries on longer. The smacks are accompanied by scratching sounds and the whole thing rattles.
My brain is searching for every logical answer but I can't find one. It's too hard to explain the handprints on the window; I live on the third floor.