I plug in my headphones, turn the sound up, and press play.
I feels like I can feel the bass beats in my head. I can’t hear a thing through these headphones, not even the clicking of the keys under my fingers.
My feet feel the vibrations on the wood floor.
I get a cold chill that slices through the humid sweat of the summer night. I shiver as an icy layer of sweat starts materializing as my hairline.
I turn around and no one else is here. The music is still blaring in my ears. The room I’m in is the only room in the house with lights on.
I turn back around and feel another vibration. My heart skips a beat.
I swing around again, expecting to see some kind of monster. A freaky looking doll or a ventriloquist dummy with a butcher knife. A guy in a hockey mask with a machete.
No one’s there. I try and imagine someone there while I’m looking behind me and it doesn’t work.
I turn back around and someone taps my shoulder.
I let out a yell and whip around.
It’s my dad with a glass of milk in his hand.