I had just stepped into the shower when I heard glass shatter. The sudden noise made me ump and bang my funny bone into the shower wall. What now, I thought as I swore under my breath and rubbed my throbbing elbow. I had just put Lily to bed. She had given me enough trouble tonight while Mom and Dad were treating themselves to a movie. She was annoying as hell, but I knew I had to make sure she was alright. If she hurt herself or broke something (o shit' not my new T.V.. Dad just agreed to me having one in my room), then I would be lucky to see the light of day in twenty years. I turned the shower off and grabbed a towel to dry off and warm up.

Still a little wet and wearing the towel around my waist, I opened the bathroom door a crack and thrust my head into the hallway. The shadows on the wall, cast by the light from the bathroom, made the hallway seem eerily distorted and somehow longer. I decided that the noise came from Lily's room. It was not far, only across the hall and to the left. As I tip-toed to her room, I realized how deathly quiet it had become right after that crash. The quiet was more unsettling then the breaking glass. The image of Lily mangled in jagged shards popped into my mind, but I pushed that thought away with a shudder. The stillness of the air made me wish desperately that something would happen, even if it meant a freak jumping out and tearing me to bits, at least it would stop being so quiet.

I gripped the door handle and pressed my body against the door, listening. I heard only more silence in Lily's room. I twisted the handle and took a deep breath. Knock it off, I tried to tell myself. You are freaking out over broken glass.

I opened the door and screamed. I almost took off running, but stopped when I saw what had scared me. Then I couldn't help but laugh. It was a nervous laugh, but it made me feel better. It was Lily's dolls at the foot of her bed. They creep me out during the day. At night, in the dim light, they were eerie even when I wasn't so worked up.

Relieved, I looked around the room. The thing I saw on the windowsill did not make me jump like the dolls had. Instead, I felt frozen in time with this entity. It was like at summer camp two years ago. A friend had dared me to jump into the camp lake at four in the morning. When I did, it felt like my blood had frozen solid, all the air left my lungs, and my flesh went to a numb aching. That was what I felt now as I looked at the thing.

It had the silhouette of a man, but as I watched in horror, it spread wings that were folded on it's shoulders. It took it's time doing this, and sounded like stretching leather. Before the creature left, it looked back at me over it's shoulder. Our eyes met only for a moment, but that was more than enough to see those eyes. I cannot begin to describe to you the horror, the pain and suffering, in those eyes. Looking into them made me feel empty, as if the monster's stare took a part of my soul with it.

Then it flew off. One beat of it's wings filled Lily's room with a gust of air, tearing the towel from my cold sides. As I watched the thing fly off into the night, I noticed that it carried something in it's arms. I turned to Lily's bed. It was empty.