Chapter 30: The House of Eyes (Sophie POV)

Chapter 30: The House of Eyes (Sophie POV)

I wake up because my throat is scratchy.
Not sick-scratchy. Just thirsty-scratchy. Like when Emma and me play outside all day and forget to drink water and Mom gets mad and says we'll get "dehydrated" which is a big word that means your body needs water.
My room is dark. Really dark. The nightlight shaped like a butterfly that Mom put by the door isn't working. I think the bulb died because Emma was messing with it yesterday when she came in to borrow my markers without asking.
I push the covers back and sit up. My princess clock says 3:15. That's really late. Or really early. I don't know which.
The house is quiet. Too quiet. Usually I can hear Dad snoring through the walls or the heater making clicking noises or cars going by outside. But right now there's nothing. Just quiet that feels like when you put your head underwater in the bathtub.
I slide out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. I should put on slippers but I don't want to make noise looking for them in the dark. Mom always says to be quiet at night so we don't wake people up.
I tiptoe to the door and open it slow so it doesn't creak. The hallway is dark too but there's a little bit of light coming from downstairs. The lamp Mom leaves on for Aunt Lauren.
Aunt Lauren has been staying with us for a long time now. Eight days. I counted. She sleeps in the guest room and helps with breakfast and plays games with me and Emma but she always looks sad. Like when my goldfish Sparkles died and I was sad even when I was doing fun things.
I walk past Emma's room. Her door is closed. Past Mom and Dad's room. Their door is closed too. Past the guest room where Aunt Lauren sleeps. Her door is closed but I can see light under it. She must be awake too.
The bathroom is at the end of the hall. I go in and use the step stool to reach the sink and fill my princess cup with water. The water is cold and tastes a little bit like metal but it feels good on my scratchy throat.
I drink the whole cup and then fill it again because I'm really thirsty.
When I'm done, I put the cup back on the sink and climb down from the step stool. My throat feels better now. I should go back to bed.
But when I'm walking past my room to the door, something makes me stop.
The window.
There's something outside the window.
I don't know how I know. I just do. Like when you can feel someone looking at you even when you're not looking at them. Teacher says that's not real, that it's just coincidence, but I know it's real because I can always tell when Emma is staring at me even if I'm not looking.
I walk to my window slow. The curtains are open a little bit because I don't like them all the way closed. It makes the room too dark and too small like I'm in a box.
I push the curtain back more and look outside.
A man is standing by the tree line.
He's tall. Really tall. Taller than Dad. He's wearing dark clothes that blend into the shadows from the trees but I can see him because he's standing where the streetlight makes everything orange and weird-looking.
His face is pale. Really pale. Like paper or like when Mom puts that white cream on her face before bed.
But his eyes are wrong.
I don't know how to explain it. They're normal eyes I think—not red or glowing or monster eyes like in movies. But they catch light that isn't there. Like when you shine a flashlight at a cat and their eyes shine back at you even though they shouldn't.
The man is looking right at me.
Right at my window.
Right at me.
My heart starts beating really fast. The kind of fast it beats when I run too much at recess or when I have a bad dream.
I want to move away from the window but my feet won't move. They're stuck. Like in dreams when you try to run but you can't move at all.
The man doesn't move either. He just stands there, looking up at my window, his pale face and wrong eyes staring at me.
I open my mouth to call for Mom but nothing comes out. My voice is stuck just like my feet.
The man tilts his head a little bit. Like a dog does when it hears a strange sound.
Then he lifts his hand. Slow. One finger pointing up.
He brings that finger to his lips.
Shhhhh.
That's what it means. Be quiet. Don't tell. Don't scream.
But I do scream.
I scream so loud my throat hurts. I scream and scream and I can't stop screaming even though the man puts his finger to his lips again like he's saying please be quiet.
"MOM!" I scream. "MOMMY!"
My feet aren't stuck anymore. I run to my door and yank it open and run into the hallway still screaming.
"MOMMY! THERE'S A MAN! THERE'S A MAN OUTSIDE!"
Doors open. Fast. All at once.
Mom comes running out of her room first, her hair all messy and her face looking scared. "Sophie? Sophie, what's wrong?"
"There's a man!" I point back at my room. "Outside! By the trees! He looked at me!"
Dad comes out second, wearing just pajama pants and looking confused and angry at the same time. "What's going on?"
"She says there's someone outside," Mom says. She kneels down in front of me and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Sophie, honey, you probably just had a bad dream—"
"NO!" I shake my head hard. "It wasn't a dream! I was awake! I got water and then I saw him and he put his finger like this—" I copy what the man did, finger to my lips. "Like be quiet!"
Aunt Lauren comes out of the guest room last. She's wearing pajamas but she doesn't look like she was sleeping. Her eyes are already awake and worried.
"Where did you see him, Sophie?" Aunt Lauren asks. Her voice is calm but serious. Like when teachers ask who broke something and they want the truth.
"My window! By the trees!"
Aunt Lauren walks past me into my room. I hear her footsteps and then I hear her at my window.
Mom is still kneeling in front of me, looking in my eyes like she's trying to see if I'm lying. "Sophie, are you sure you didn't just dream—"
"I didn't dream it!" My voice comes out loud and angry. "I was awake! I got water and everything!"
Dad walks past us into my room too. I can hear him and Aunt Lauren talking quiet but I can't hear the words.
Emma's door opens. She's standing there looking sleepy and confused. "What's happening?"
"Nothing, sweetie," Mom says. "Sophie just had a nightmare. Go back to bed."
"It wasn't a nightmare!" I stomp my foot. Why won't anyone believe me?
Dad comes back into the hallway. His face looks different now. Less angry, more worried.
"Sarah, there's footprints," he says to Mom. "In the grass under her window. Fresh ones."
Mom's face goes white. Like the man's face. "What?"
"Someone was standing there. Recently." Dad looks at Aunt Lauren who's still in my room. "I'm checking all the locks."
He walks away toward the stairs, moving fast.
Mom stands up and pulls me close, hugging me tight against her stomach. Her heart is beating fast too. I can feel it.
"It's okay, baby," she says but her voice sounds shaky. "You're okay. You're safe."
But I don't feel safe. I feel scared. Because the man was real and everyone thought I was dreaming but he was real and he was looking at me and he told me to be quiet.
Aunt Lauren comes out of my room. She walks past us to the window at the end of the hallway—the big one that looks out at the street.
She stands there for a long time, just looking.
Then she makes a sound. Not a scream like mine. More like a breath that got stuck.