Thump. I heard it again. It was the fifth time this week. I looked up at the ceiling to where my attic was. It’s got to be in there, I thought. This time, I’ll catch whatever it is. I decided to wait until nightfall. That’s when I noted the sound being the most active. So that night, I grabbed my flashlight and a ladder. Then I walked over to the attic entrance and walked inside. The rain from the late-night storm pattered down on the attic windows. A flash of light lit up the attic, but I couldn’t see anything. I shined my flashlight around, walking carefully to avoid being heard as much as possible. If there’s something up here, it’s doing its best to hide from me. I continued walking around, searching carefully. A boom of thunder sounded, and the attic lit up. I turned to see if I could see anything, but again I found nothing. I shook my head. Maybe it really is just my imagination. Or a mouse that’s hiding. Sighing, I climbed down. Disappointment flooded my senses. I was so sure it was something. I put away my ladder and flashlight.
Looks like I’ll have to call an exterminator after all. That night, as I was lying in bed, I heard it again. Thump. Thump. Something or someone was walking across the attic. Frustrated, I shouted up at the attic.
“Shut it, I’m trying to sleep!” Then the noise stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief and was able to get some sleep. Or so I thought.
I woke up not long after. The sound was gone, but my bedroom door was open. I cocked my head. Did I leave my door open? I couldn’t remember if I did or not. I reached down to my phone and unlocked it. It was 4:30 in the morning. I should have been heading to sleep, because I had work in just a few hours. But something on my phone caught my eye. My camera was open. My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t open this. I leaned over and flicked on the light in my room, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. But the hallway was empty. The storm had died down outside. So I sat up and took a deep breath. Then I opened my camera reel.
I looked at the first picture. It was my attic. The second picture was of the stairs leading down to my house. The next set of pictures was of my house, gradually leading to my bedroom. Then the last three pictures. The first picture was of the hallway of my room. The second picture was of my open door. Then the last picture. My heart was pounding as I looked at it. My hand was over my mouth as I tried not to scream. The last picture was of my bedroom. But my bed was empty. The covers perfectly made up, as if I never slept in them. I put my phone down, my breath becoming faster.
Who took these photos? I looked around to see who may have taken them, but I never saw anyone.
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