The Knock at Midnight

It had been a long time since anything strange happened to me. Life was normal, at least until a few months ago.

I had to stop working because of an injury. My surgery was scheduled for early in the month. The first few nights after the operation, I barely remember anything. I would lie down and then—nothing. No dreams, no thoughts, just darkness until morning.

Then, on the fourth night, I finally felt like the medicine was out of my system. I had bought a drink before my surgery, so I decided to try it before bed. It wasn’t great, but I finished it, turned off the lights, and closed my door. I wanted to sleep with my fan on, but the switch was broken, so leaving the door shut was my only option.

I don’t know what time it was, but suddenly—knock knock, knock knock. Four fast, sharp taps on my door. My eyes flew open. I sat up, listening. Nothing. Just silence.

I thought maybe my parents were up, but I could hear them breathing softly in the next room, sound asleep. Maybe I dreamed the knocking? Or maybe it was a warning, waking me up before something bad happened.

The next morning, I told my mom. She just waved it off, saying it was probably the dog’s tail hitting the door. But I know what that sounds like. This was different.

A Shadow in the Dark

A month later, it happened again.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about the night. I like the quiet, but there’s a heaviness to it, like something pressing down on the world. And my dreams—well, they’re never peaceful. They start out normal but always twist into something dark. I usually wake up around 3 AM, my heart racing, my head heavy.

This time, the dream was different. I don’t remember what I was talking about or who—or what—I was talking to. But suddenly, my dream self lunged forward, reaching out.

And then I woke up.

My body had moved with the dream. My right arm was stretched out, but not in front of me—it was reaching toward the open doorway. And in the corner of my eye, I saw something. A shadow, moving fast across my dresser and out the door. No shape, no face—just motion.

But the strangest part? Usually, after these dreams, I feel weighed down for minutes. This time, the feeling vanished as soon as I woke up.

I don’t know what to make of these things. Were they just dreams? Or was something really there, knocking on my door and slipping away into the night?