10 - Friday the 13th
It was Friday, September 13th. A melancholy fog covered the ground to the point where he was blind to his own feet. He put daughters in their beds and drifted into a light sleep on his couch. The man abruptly woke up to police yelling on a rerun episode of Dateline. He sprung off the couch, bound up the stairs to his daughters room. When he opened the door he had the lovely surprise of his two beautiful daughters sound asleep. He sighed in relief and continued to walk down the stairs. Within his first few steps in the kitchen he noticed a dark figure run by his window. The man wondered to himself if there really was someone there or if it was just the effects of exhaustion. But then, he heard a sound outside the house, like metal rapping against a dull surface. He had heard something, he knew that for sure. So he went back to the room where his daughter slept, he watched them. Until he heard another noise, but this time it was coming from inside the house. He stared into the darkness with his eyes wide open, he could only see darkness, and then he heard it. A single clap. He reached for the handle of his daughters door, as his fingers grazed the brass the noise reverberating through his ears. Two claps. His stomach crawled up his throat, his palms were damp as they untwisted the door to his daughters resting place. He opens the door and the room is empty. Nothing but the presence of a cool wind whistling through the opened window.