Paranormal bumps — series 1

Why you must sleep with the curtains open

Never shut, and always with a light close to hand


Eyes open immediately, ears straining as much as one’s eyes in the darkness to make out what was the source of that noise. Was that from the stairs, or was that from the landing outside? It’s dark, the light from the streetlight muted by the blinds. All that can be heard is the harsh breathing, slowly easing and slowing down to normal.


That had to be that creaky floorboard on the landing. Someone was outside the door. It was dark. Maybe it was a burglar. The room feels colder, and the instinct is to snuggle under the blankets. There is silence again, one eye straining over the edge of the covers drawn up around ears, a flimsy barrier against the unseen threat of darkness, to see the door open.

Is that a shadow moving by the door? What is it? Human? It moves wrong, legs too spindly, no apparent hands. It’s getting closer…and closer…. and closer. The temperature is burning cold; the atmosphere is suffocating. Eyes get squeezed tight shut as if that could fend off … whatever it is.

The atmosphere gets heavier and heavier, pressure pressing down — trapping you in your cocoon of blankets. Chest going tight. Desperately you flail until your hand brushes something.


Slowly you open your eyes; your room is bathed in a comforting yellow-orange glow from your bedside light. There is no one there.

Writing about: LGBTQIA+ Issues || Mental Health || Short Stories. Demi-male, trans-masculine — They/Them pronouns. Can be found at —

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