The clock ticked back and forth above me. It was late in the morning and I fell asleep on my bed watching mindless, late night cartoons leaving the T.V. on in the process. The loud sounds from the early morning shows stirred me awake with sounds of explosions and crazy hijinks. I suddenly found myself looking at the clock. It was nine in the morning and I already knew that our parents weren’t home; my mom was working and my dad was out helping a friend move.
Thanks to my luck, my dad didn’t even ask me to help, which was a good thing for me. Tired from last night’s channel surfing, I was hoping for at least one good scary movie or T.V. show to pop up, but all I found were bland, boring infomercials. I sat in bed for a few minutes allowing myself to wake up fully before starting a new day. The grating noise of the clock was the only sound that lofted in my room.
I gazed around at my room until my eyes hit my bookcase filled with chilling stories that I rea