The Knock in My Closet

I live alone, so when I heard knocking at my bedroom door at 2:17 a.m., I froze.

I checked my phone. No notifications. No calls. Just silence. The knocking came

again—slow, deliberate. Three taps. I whispered, “Who’s there?”

No answer. I opened my door. The hallway was empty… except for wet footprints leading

from the front door to my room. Bare feet. Facing inward. My phone buzzed.

It was a text from my sister: “Don’t open your door. I just saw someone

who looks exactly like you standing outside your house.” Before I could respond, the knocking started

again. This time… it was coming from inside my closet. And whatever was