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The Knock
Knock. Knock. A knocking at my door interrupts my microwave dinner and TV night. I get up to answer my door thinking how weird this was since I never get visitors anymore. Not since that horrible day two years ago...Stop. No more. It’s been over and done with for years. With that decided I turn my attention back to the door, and the knocking, which has stopped. As I approach the door a chill shoots through my body. I go to unlock it wishing, wishing I had gotten a peep hole installed. But it was my mother who suggested one, so of course I refused. Stupid me. Slowly. Carefully. I open the door. My breath puffing out in short bursts. There is no reason to be panicking. So what I have an unexpected visitor. I should be happy. Excited even. But… I’m not. This isn't right. Something is wrong here.
My door is half open, wide enough to welcome someone in. A gust of wind blows into my face. But no one comes rushing in like I expected. There’s not even a sound. I peek through the opening to see who’s there. But the hallway is empty. I glance back and forth to see if someone was walking away, but again, the hall is empty. Visibly shaking I close my door and turn to go back to my dinner. I look up and scream. The hall wasn't empty like I thought. That day two years ago stole away my husband, and now its back. Back to take me.
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