I have screamed plenty of times in my life—whether it was from fighting with kids at school, cheering for my favorite hockey team, or waking up from nightmares that sent me running to my parents.
But this is different.
This sound does not belong to me.
Panic and fear grip my throat so tightly that the room blurs. A single, consuming thought remains: I must signal for help or force the intruder away from my best friend.
The latter comes first.
I unleash another scream. It is an earth-shattering vibration that tears through the air. The dark silhouette is thrown across the room as if struck by a physical weight, crashing into the wall with a bone-rattling thud. The floorboards beneath my bed groan and split.
A pained hiss escapes the figure as they struggle to rise, while the entire ro
