It’s been a rough few days, and Wendy and I have been spending as much time as possible out of the house. We spent a lot of time with relatives on Thursday, even going out to a late movie because we just didn’t want to go home yet. Nighttime is just too stressful now, and even though we’re locking the bedroom door, I think we both know that isn’t really going to solve anything.
Friday was spent at various shopping outlets; we left early and didn’t get home until pretty late. I normally don’t like shopping, but even the madness of Back Friday was tame in comparison to my new reality. I’d take swarms of sleep-deprived bargain hunters over these twisted and horrifying nighttime visitations any day. On the plus side, we did get our holiday shopping done early. You have to appreciate the small things.
Last night around 2:30am we were both woken up by banging noises that didn’t make sense. They were deep, hollow noises that seemed to come from the stairs – sounds that were far more terrifying because we both knew nothing in the house could make a noise like that. The banging lasted for a little less than 15 minutes – Wendy insists that it was 13 minutes exactly, but that might just be her reading into things. I think we’re beyond ”13 is an unlucky number’ at this point.
I did NOT open the door and go out to investigate. No way.