I’m pretty freaked out.

That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid of it.

At first I thought it was a prank, a doll or mannequin that some jerks put there to scare me. But I realized as I walked out of my house to pull it away… it wasn’t there. I shrugged it off, thinking that someone had hidden it while I was walking through my door. But I went back in and looked out that same window, and it was looking in, staring at me. I walked around my house, yelling for whoever it was to come out, but no one was there.

The thing is completely hairless, and it didn’t look like it actually had eyes, or even a face at all. But its head is turned towards me when I enter the room. When I sit on my computer, I can feel its stare boring into my neck. But when I turn around, it’s innocently turned in a different direction.

Finally on Thursday I tried to open the window, but it’s stuck. I think the thing’s hands are keeping it down. But I got a good look at its face. Its eyes and mouth are behind the skin, pushing outward. It stared at me, smiling.

Of course, I screamed.

I smashed my fist against the glass, determined once and for all to get rid of the glaring monster. I know I’m strong enough. That glass should’ve cracked.
But it didn’t.

It shuddered under my hand, but it didn’t break. And that smile just got wider and wider and wider, until I thought its head would break in half. It raised its own hand and bashed the window with its palm. It was mocking me. But I saw the faintest crack begin to appear where it had hit, and I backed away.

No way did I want that smile in the same room as me.

So I got a roll of duct tape, and I started covering the window. I couldn’t look directly at it; it was terrifying just knowing it was watching me. But I couldn’t help it. I took a quick glance at that face. A small peek.

It was angry.

That grin was now a large frown full of teeth. The skin had ripped away from its mouth. A menacing rumble started to fill the house. I pulled down the duct tape. The rumble stopped, the skin healed over, and it began to smile again.

Now it’s night, and the noise hasn’t started again. There are no sounds, no rumble, no crackling glass. Everything’s quiet now.

But I can feel its claws gripping the back of my chair. I can hear its skin stretching as it smiles.

It’s watching me type.