Ghost

A couple of nights ago, I couldn't sleep for a long time. I was tired from the day, but it often happens that physical fatigue keeps you up for a long time, your body aches, and you toss and turn. So I was tossing and turning. And then I heard a crash somewhere in the hallway or the kitchen—something fell or broke. I jerked, turned my head toward the door. And froze. The room door was open. Or rather, half-open. What's more, there was some strange light behind the door. A diffuse, white light.

I always close the door at night. I don't like sleeping with it open; it's creepy. And then, what a surprise! No one was home except me. I hadn't been noticed sleepwalking, and I wasn't even sleeping! I was lying there, wondering what the hell was going on.

I swallowed, sat up, and then I saw a shadow appear in the hallway. It appeared and was approaching, towards my room. Slowly. And there were some sounds. A clinking sound. It was like an oil painting. An empty apartment undergoing renovations, my door open, a pale light pouring from the depths of the apartment, and someone slowly approaching me, clinking something!

I thought I'd shit myself right there in bed. I lay there, shaking all over, pressed against the wall. I was afraid to reach out to turn on the light. I stared at this shadow moving down the hallway, wishing I was living on the first floor now, not the fifth. My nerves were on edge. And the shadow kept getting closer, and the clinking sound kept getting closer. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't, I just exhaled.

And then a figure appeared from behind the door. In this light, I could only see a silhouette. Someone dressed in something long, with long hair. This figure cast a shadow on the hallway wall. 

When it came right up to my door, I was overcome with a prayer. I started whispering loudly, "Lord, help me, Lord, help me." I couldn't stop; I whispered as if I were detached. I couldn't get any louder, it just wheezed.

The figure stopped abruptly, darted back, and disappeared. And I heard something break. Nearby, near the threshold. That strange light disappeared, and it became completely dark.

I stopped whispering. I just sat there, shaking. I don't know how long I sat there. There were no other sounds. Gradually, I began to calm down. I finally reached for the lamp. But the light didn't come on. And only then did the giraffe realize that all the lightbulbs in the apartment were gone. Major renovations, and all that. I usually don't wake up at night, so I didn't really need a nightlight. But then I deeply regretted taking the bulb out of it, too.

 Terrified that I couldn't turn on the light, I slipped my hand under the blanket and wrapped myself in it as best I could. It was quiet everywhere. Thoughts crept into my head that this whole thing had just been a dream, and I'd simply forgotten to lock the door when I went to bed. Well, I'd been so busy all day that I might have forgotten not only to close the door, but even to go to the bathroom. I began to relax and eventually fell asleep.

When I woke up again, it wasn't quite dark anymore. It was getting light. I had to get up early, so after lying down for a while, I gave up and got up. The door to the room was still ajar. Still in my nightgown, I left the room and padded into the kitchen. I turned on the fluorescent lamp there. It was the only one in the apartment that worked at the time; they'd left it on. I never used it. I don't like the light from those lamps; I don't like it. But since there's no other light source, there are no other options.

I made myself some coffee. While I was cooking, I accidentally knocked the knife block onto the floor with my hand. Cursing, I put it back, poured sugar into a cup, and went to my room with it. I didn't want to drink coffee in the kitchen precisely because of the lamp. Maybe it's stupid, but for some reason this light scares me, has since childhood. It's kind of creepy. I decided to carry the cup to the bedroom by lamplight, so as not to accidentally trip over a bag or a box in the hallway, and then I'd come back and turn off the damned thing. I walked to the bedroom, stirring the sugar. I tried not to walk too fast, so as not to spill it. There had been precedents like that.

I reached my room, and then I heard something hissing in the room. And in the doorway, as best I could see, I saw something moving on the bed. I don't know, my feet carried me to the kitchen. I dropped the cup outside the room and simply dashed into the kitchen. My first reaction: I closed the door, ran to the window, and sat on the floor under the windowsill, pressed myself against the wall. I sat there, shaking, waiting for the door to open and some kind of thing to stand on the threshold, or for something to stick its head out under the door, and the light from that lamp! I thought I'd go crazy!

I sat there until it was light enough to see outside without the light. I hobbled to the lamp and turned it off. Then the doorbell rang. I thought I'd be thrown to the ceiling, but I jumped in fright.

During the day, I got a little distracted by work, and the nighttime nonsense somehow faded into the background again. Closer to lunch, I remembered the first nighttime nonsense, which I mistook for a dream.

 A repairman I knew even asked me what was wrong with my face and why I was staring at nothing. And the giraffe just realized it again.