Having woken up up at night to the wind howling through my windows, blowing around the light blue curtain I knew I'd shut earlier that day, I didn't realize how bright they were until after I asked my parents for them on my  sixth birthday. I'm fourteen now and always wake up with sun pushing through the useless piece of fabric, flooding my room with light, my room...
A few days ago, the door, I swore I heard it creak open but when I shone the light of my phone, nothing; windows always opening in the night. Something was going on, I didn’t know what.

26/8/16

My parents leave today for their jobs, I never ask, it’s some sort of government job I probably shouldn’t know about but I always wonder...

27/8/16

I go to my room again, ready for bed except this time I set up my GoPro at the door. I make sure I can see everything; my two door wardrobe that I always close at night (yet it's open in the morning), the curtains, my bed and my toy box; a massive box full of toys nothing else can fit in. I go to sleep.
I wake up in the night and do my regular thing, shut the windows and curtains; I'm too tired to check the recording so I wait until tomorrow.

28/8/16

I wake up, immediately grab my GoPro  and begin watching; I fast forward until I see something. I get to a point where there's only static although that's impossible on a GoPro. Suddenly it stops, the wardrobe doors are open and there is a silhouette of a tall dark figure moving around my room with what looks to be a long knife or machete. I immediately shiver. He walks up to me and stands beside the bed yet he does nothing but stares. Suddenly, in one sharp movement he whips his knife up and stabs my brother, again, again and again, repeatedly stabbing. Suddenly I feel sick; I look up and my brother is there, I throw up at the sight of blood gushing out of his head and down onto my bed, staining the sheets. He has no face, just gore where his head should be. I’m not used to the sight of blood, I grow dizzy and faint.

29/8/16

I am conscious again but I’m not where I should be, I wake up in my bed, not on the floor where I fell. I lay there, it’s 3.25am still dark, I flick on the light, my heart smashes against my chest as I see a tall slender figure lurking in the shadow with a knife. For a moment I don’t understand, my mind is blank. I come back to earth and realize what’s happening; he’s back! I scream and run down stairs, the straight, six step staircase in my house that now becomes a long, windy never-ending staircase. I stop knowing that it’s over, I’m dead. Tears flood my eyelids I crouch down.
“Get out,” I whisper to myself, accepting my fate but with the sense of loss and sadness. I feel anger. He walks slowly and calmly down the stairs until he is one step above me; he raises his knife and with all my power I punch him in the shin. It’s like punching a pillow, he doesn't move, twitch or anything. I jump up dodging his knife. I jump off the staircase, go through the middle gap, six stairs on each wall, I keep falling and falling until I find myself rolling down from the top of the familiar six step staircase and into the bloody bodies of my mother, father and brother. He laughs “This time it’s your turn,” he says in a deep almost fake voice. I scream as the knife comes right down onto my head. I was so foolish.

I love to write in the first person of my victims, I love to feel their fear.