The baseball dropped as we left the field. I was in the dugout dressing in my T-shirt and long pants for the short walk home. The day was hot and the humidity was high, but I was still glad I made it to practice. My friend’s mom came early to pick him up, so I had no one to walk home with. I grabbed my sack and walked home. On my way back, there were gusts of wind that blew in from the north, but then stopped and started at random, making it hard for me to keep balance. I stopped by the supermarket on my way back and picked up a loaf of bread for my family’s dinner. We were having BLTs with yogurt parfaits; my favorite. On my way out, I looked over at my favorite climbing tree over at the park. I felt a strong breeze, but none of the large maple’s leaves were budging. Nothing much, but I pondered on it on my way back.

As I stepped through the doors, my mom was home sitting on the couch reading a book. She welcomed me and nuzzled my head. I unbox the goods I picked up and rushed upstairs to shower. However, before I could do this my mom yelled up the stairs that she had just gotten a message and had to go visit my dad’s office. She said that she would be home just in time for dinner and that I could do whatever whilst I was home alone. I finished my journey up the stairs and plopped my bag onto my bed. After I showered, I looked outside to see if the winds were still whipping. I could hear it whirling around my window, but there was no motion in the trees. Something else was there though: rain, and lots of it. In the time I was in the shower to when I got out, a full-on storm picked up. My first instinct was to go and eat, even if it was alone. I fixed up the granola and yogurt along with the berries and wolfed it down. I decided that was enough for then. I went up to do some homework.

All of a sudden, I heard a grinding of a knife on bread downstairs. It had been rather hot outside just a few hours ago, so I thought it was just me reacting to the heat. It kept up before evolving into a crunching. Finally I had had enough with the munching. I grabbed my bat and silently cracked my door ajar. The noises kept up, so I crept down the stairs. Then I saw it. A half eaten BLT laying out on the floor. That was odd, but the thing was, the noises didn’t stop. They were coming from the upstairs

Things were getting out of hand. My bat in hand, I tiptoed upstairs. Midway up however, I decided that this was too slow. I knew a way to corner anyone in the whole house to one specific spot upstairs in my dad’s closet. I ran like a barbarian up to my room, through my bathroom, into the jumbo air vent, past the guest room, into my parent’s room, and ending up in the dark closet. I heard a noise. It was coming from the back. I heaved my bat up over my head and slammed it into the source of the noise. Nothing. All that was hit was the perfect wooden floor, or rather now a splintered plank.
The noises of munching, as well as now shuffling kept up, but they were downstairs again. Of course I went down, but what I found wasn’t exactly as obvious. The TV was on tuned to a static channel, All the lights were on, and the blender was plugged in. I assumed that it was my mom who did that, and the fruit inside was what I could put on my parfait. It resembled a pomegranate with its seeds spilled about with a gratuitous amount of juice, so why not blend it! After all that had occurred, I decided that eating would be best. I poured a few layers on the yogurt as the noises persisted. I took a big spoonful and gulped it down.The first things I tasted were spice and pork, but then quickly descended into bloody slime and gel-like rot. I decided that it was an organ of some sort. I then proceeded to pour it into the toilet, as well as my lunch and dinner.

Finally I decided to go back up, as the noises had moved, so I did. Like expected, they quickly stopped and moved back down, but I outsmarted them. I sat in bed with my bat and waited. Soon and sure enough, the noises came to a halt and came back up. That's when the noises advanced themselves. They began to whisper gibberish and laugh afterwards. Then there was the horns honking and the bells dinging. I lost it though, when the blowing of air started. I was too paranoid to peek out the door. The breathing got louder. I clenched the bat. Soon the breathing was so loud I could practically feel it! I could feel it, hot on the back of my neck. My stomach lurched. I slowly peered behind me. Nothing was there. I swerved back. It came
The clown dashed towards me, laughing loudly. I expected to die. Compared to that fate, death seemed joyful. I found myself without my bat looking around, but there was nothing to see. The fog clouded the blackish ground made of what I could only assume to be dirt. The noises followed. I yelled. I didn’t stop. However, the noises did. I kept feeling around until I came across something. It seemed like a button, so I poked it. It didn’t do anything, so I felt my way down. There was what seemed to be a hard, wet cooling vent, a soft protective coat, a silky smooth cover, and a two rubbery bases. Suddenly, the thing flashed with a beam of light right as it clicked in my head, and I saw what it was.

The next moment I found myself in my bed, hearing a slam of a door. Then footsteps. Then stairs creaking. More footsteps. A handle jiggling. The last thing I saw was a large masked figure. Munching on a BLT. And a knife in hand.