Chapter 1

The house behind mine has been empty for as long as I can remember.

It sits at the end of a narrow dirt road, maybe thirty or forty feet from my backyard. There used to be a wooden fence between the two properties, but most of it has fallen apart over the years. The house itself is small, two stories, with faded white paint and windows that are either cracked or completely boarded up.

Nobody goes there.

At least, that's what I thought.

I first noticed something strange about three weeks ago.

It was around 1:30 in the morning. I had gotten up to get some water, and before going back to bed I looked through the kitchen window into the backyard.

I don't normally do that. I have no idea why I did that night.

There was a light on in the abandoned house.

Not a bright light. It looked like a small yellow lamp coming from one of the upstairs windows.

I just stood there staring at it.

My first thought was that someone had finally bought the place.

But then I remembered the house didn't have electricity.

The power had been disconnected years ago.

I watched the window for maybe thirty seconds, expecting the light to disappear.

It didn't.

Then something moved across the window.

Just a shadow.

Someone was standing inside.

I immediately stepped away from the kitchen window.

I know that sounds stupid, but I didn't feel curious anymore. I felt uncomfortable. There was something about seeing a person inside a house that was supposed to be empty that made my stomach drop.

I went upstairs and went to bed.

The next morning, I looked at the house again.

The upstairs window was boarded up.

There wasn't even a crack between the boards where I could have seen a light.

I told myself I'd probably imagined it.

For the next few days, nothing happened.

Then I started noticing little things.

The first was the back door.

The abandoned house had an old wooden back door that was usually hanging slightly open because the frame had rotted away.

One morning, I noticed it was completely closed.

A few days later, it was open again.

Then closed.

Then open.

I didn't think much of it at first.

I figured maybe the wind was doing it.

Then I saw the footprints.

It had rained heavily that night, and the ground between my fence and the abandoned house was basically mud.

There were footprints leading from the back door of the house toward the road.

They weren't old.

I could see the shape of the soles clearly.

Someone had walked through the mud recently.

I took a picture because I wanted to show my brother.

When I looked closer at the picture later, I noticed something that bothered me.

There were two sets of footprints.

One went toward the road.

The other went toward my backyard.

The second set stopped at my fence.

I didn't tell my brother about that part.

I just told him I thought someone might be sneaking into the house.

He laughed and said it was probably teenagers.

That actually made me feel better.

Until that night.

Around 2 AM, I heard something hit my kitchen window.

It wasn't loud.

Just a small tap.

Then another.

Tap.

Tap.

I got out of bed and walked downstairs.

I didn't turn on the lights.

I don't know why.

I stood in the kitchen for a while, listening.

Nothing.

Then I heard it again.

Tap.

This time I was sure it came from the window.

I slowly moved closer.

There was nothing outside.

Just the backyard and the dark outline of the abandoned house.

I was about to walk away when I noticed something near the fence.

A person.

They were standing completely still.

I couldn't see their face.

They were just standing there, looking toward my house.

I froze.

The person didn't move.

I backed away from the window and grabbed my phone.

I called my brother.

While the phone was ringing, I looked back outside.

The person was gone.

My brother answered and immediately asked what was wrong.

I told him someone had been standing in my backyard.

He told me to lock the doors and call the police.

I did.

Two officers came about twenty minutes later.

They searched my yard and walked around the outside of the abandoned house.

They didn't find anyone.

One of them told me there were signs that somebody had been inside the house recently.

He showed me a broken section of the back door.

There were fresh scratches around the lock.

They went inside to check.

I stayed outside.

About ten minutes later, they came back out.

They said the house was empty.

But one of the officers asked me a strange question.

He asked if I'd heard anyone walking around upstairs.

I said no.

He looked at the other officer.

Then he told me they had found a mattress upstairs.

There was food beside it.

Bottled water.

A flashlight.

Some clothes.

Someone had been living there.

They searched the entire house again but couldn't find the person.

The officer told me not to go near the property and to call immediately if I saw anyone.

I thought that would be the end of it.

It wasn't.

Two nights later, I woke up because I heard someone walking in my backyard.

I checked the security camera on my phone.

At first, I didn't see anything.

Then I rewound the footage.

At 3:12 AM, the back door of the abandoned house opened.

A man stepped outside.

He stood there for several seconds.

Then he walked straight toward my house.

I watched him come across the yard.

He stopped at my fence.

And then he looked directly at my security camera.

He knew exactly where it was.

He stood there for almost a minute.

Then he turned around and walked back to the abandoned house.

I called the police again.

They came, but by the time they arrived, the house was empty.

This time they searched every room.

They found the mattress again.

But underneath it, they found something else.

A small notebook.

One of the officers asked me if I recognized the handwriting.

I didn't.

Then he opened it.

Most of the pages were filled with random numbers and dates.

But near the back were several sentences.

The officer read them out loud.

The first one was:

“He watches the house every night.”

The second:

“He never locks the back door.”

Then:

“He knows when she goes to sleep.”

I remember feeling cold when I heard that.

Because I live alone.

The officer looked at me and asked if anyone knew my routine.

I said no.

Then he turned the page.

There was a date from two weeks earlier.

Under it, someone had written:

“She looks through the kitchen window before going upstairs.”

I couldn't say anything.

That was exactly what I had been doing.

Every night.

The officer took the notebook as evidence.

They told me they would increase patrols around the area.

I stayed with my brother for a few nights after that.

When I eventually came back home, I installed better locks and covered the kitchen window.

I also stopped checking the backyard at night.

It's been about a week now.

Nothing has happened.

The abandoned house is still empty.

At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

But yesterday morning, I found something outside my back door.

A small plastic bottle of water.

The same kind that had been found beside the mattress.

I didn't touch it.

I called the police.

They came and took it away.

One of the officers asked me something before he left.

He said, “Have you noticed anything missing from your house?”

I told him no.

He nodded and left.

I went back inside and started checking everything anyway.

That's when I noticed my kitchen chair.

It wasn't where I normally leave it.

I always push it underneath the table.

This time it was pulled out.

Facing the kitchen window.

I don't know if someone had been inside my house.

I don't know if that man is still around.

And honestly, I don't want to know.

But last night, at around 2:40 AM, I heard three quiet knocks on my back door.

I didn't move.

A few seconds later, I heard a man's voice from outside.

He said my name.

Not loudly.

Just enough for me to hear him.

Then he said:

“You don't have to keep the curtains closed.”

I haven't looked outside since.