October 31, 2014.

SPOOKTOBER SPOOKY SPOOK STORY #9:

I am lying in bed when I hear the window break and the thing passes into my bedroom. "Hello," I whimper. I am facing the wall so I cannot see the window but I close my eyes trappety-tight for good measure. "Who's there?"

"Hello," it responds. "Can you please scootch over so I can get into bed with you?" It has a voice like a thousand knives, or a breeze passing through the valley of the shadow of death.

"No thank you," I say. "Good-bye", I add.

"But I am very cold," it explains.

"Of course you are cold, it is nearly November and you have broken my window." I am gnawing on my fist so my words sound muffled and after I have finished speaking I have to spit out some knuckle blood onto my pillow. I am soaked with sweat and my pillow is soaked with tears and now a little knuckle blood, too.

"No... I'm cold because... well, never mind." I can hear it shuffling uncomfortably around the room, trying to get a peek at me, but it can't because I am hiding. I mentally commend myself for being really well scrunched up under the blankets and sheets and so on. "It doesn't matter," it says, and then it says "Look I won't even touch you, I promise."

I doubt that very much but I have decided to keep my mouth shut and hope that it will go away and besides I am shaking too much to formulate a sentence. The thing's presence hangs over me like a weighted shroud. There is a long moment where it is just the sound of us breathing in the room.

"Where I come from," it starts, and then sighs. "Look, I just think it would be easier to tell you about who I am and where I come from if you would just let me..."

It trails off. I am weeping loudly now, and I think that might have offput it.

"I'm sorry," it says, but it sounds more like it is talking to itself, like it thinks I am not listening any more. "I'm sorry."

It murmurs something to itself that sounds like "I'm just so cold," and then it leaves the room through something other than the window.

I can feel the sharp chill of the October wind through my blankets. I close my eyes and wait for morning light.