It Remembered Me

I’ve lived in my apartment for five years, and I’ve always loved how quiet

it was at night. No traffic. No neighbors stomping above me. Just silence.

Until last week. It started as a soft tapping behind my bedroom wall. Not the steady rhythm

of pipes or electricity. No — this sounded… hesitant. Like it was listening to me before continuing.

Three taps. A pause. Two taps. Another pause. Almost like it was

waiting for a response. I knocked back. Just once. It stopped. The next night,

I heard breathing. Not mine. Slow. Wet. Right behind the

wall, inches from my head. I held my breath — and the thing on the other side