Short gothic horror stories

Bedtime

Curled up and warm. I can never get to sleep easily, and even when I do I’ll just wake up again an hour or so later. We’ve seen the doctor but they say it’s just my way of sleeping. Creaking and whistling the floor boards didn’t help, just made my imagination run wild. Just another night. Just another noise, just another shadow. They weren’t real but they seemed real and I couldn’t shake the fact that one day they could be real. One day they could be here. One day they could hurt me. Everybody just said: “They aren’t real” or “They can’t hurt you” But what if they can? What if they do?

My eyes fluttered closed. I couldn’t help it. What if it was there? Watching me. Waiting for me to lower my guard. If I opened my eyes I’d have to see it, but if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to react. What if it grabbed me? But then if I opened my eyes it could run at me. I’d have to look at it. Knowing there was nothing I could do. I’d just have to watch it. Watch it come to me, take me, hurt me.

I built up some courage and opened my eyes. Nothing. There was nothing there, this time. I shivered and buried my head in my teddy. Holding onto it tight. The teddy always helped me get back to sleep, it was as if another person was there with me. That comforted me especially when I knew it wouldn’t leave me. Unlike an actual person.

Barking and growling. The dog was barking at another plastic bag in the wind again. But my imagination seemed to use this, like giving fuel to a dying flame. The shadows of the trees seemed to make creatures in the window, tapping and banging on my window. Like somebody trying to get in. There were more shadows, more faces. Everything seemed to turn into some sort of abnormal, twisted creature or person. Growling and hissing, it wasn’t just a gentle breeze anymore. My heart started to race, thumping and banging on my chest. My arms and hands began to shake as my legs started to shiver, slowly becoming numb. I held onto the teddy tighter.

“It’s not real, it’s just in your head” I kept mumbling over and over. My mom and dad always said that if it was somebody the dog would have stopped them. But they were asleep now, the dog hadn’t seemed to wake them but she was still growling. My hands shook more, beads of sweat dripping from my face, my hands sticky. The lights from the cars outside dashed and danced across my wall, my heart jumped and my breathing stopped. I took a deep breath, grabbed the curtains and glanced out of the window.