Three Dots Above My Head

I found my grandmother's diary from 1952. Every entry ended with "He's getting closer."

The final page was dated yesterday. My grandmother died twenty years ago. I heard footsteps

upstairs. My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. It was a photo of

me reading the diary right now. The footsteps stopped directly above my head.

Something started scratching at my ceiling. The scratching spelled out words.

It spelled my name. Then it went silent. I looked back at my phone. Three dots appeared.

Someone was typing.