A scary night

Opening the front door and stepping into the dark hallway, I bumped into something soft. "Meow!" my beloved cat squeaked discontentedly. "Here I am again," I said, turning on the light and taking a deep breath.

The apartment was being renovated, and it resembled an old, dusty closet. Old wallpaper, dismantled wardrobes, clothes, and a multitude of books and notebooks were scattered everywhere. The lighting was dim. I went into my room, which was also cluttered with junk. Putting down my suitcase, I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt sad. The bored animals came running to me, I turned on the TV and sank deep into my thoughts.

I don't know how long I sat there, but I woke up when my dog suddenly jumped up and flew out of the room. I stood up, and the cat jumped up after me. Something strange was happening, and I felt uneasy. Slowly but surely, fear crept into me. I couldn't figure out where it came from, but it turned out it wasn't just fear—it brought with it the feeling of someone's presence. But whose? No one was home; all my family had gone on vacation. I tried to calm myself down and blame it on the difficult move, but it didn't work. I turned on the lights in every room, sat down on the bed, and waited for something. I don't understand how I felt then now. It was as if it had all been a dream. My pets were next to me. They'd never behaved like this before—they were afraid to leave my side, to leave the room, staring at me all the time and breathing heavily. And the fear kept growing.

Now I knew for sure—something or someone was brazenly wandering around my apartment. I started pacing the room, constantly looking back. I felt like someone was following me, staring at me. And then the cat's behavior caught my attention—he seemed to be on edge: his eyes lit up, his fur stood on end, and he lunged at the door with a loud hiss. That's when I really got scared...

And then it all started. My animals went crazy—they started running around the apartment, trying to catch someone. But that was only half the trouble. The light in the bathroom suddenly turned off, and a shiver ran down my spine. Closing my eyes, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Get out of here!" Immediately after that, everything seemed to calm down. I turned the bathroom light back on and just as I was calming down, it went out again...

I thought I was going crazy. The cat and dog were running around under my feet. I was shaking all over. I rushed into the room, grabbed the icon and the prayer book. I went out into the hallway—for some reason, I felt completely terrified in other places. I don't know how long I tried to convince myself it was nerves, when suddenly a shadow darted past me, like a gust of wind. I rushed to the front door, but something held me back; for some reason, I was afraid to open it. Pressing myself into the corner of the hallway, I clutched the icon in my hand and dialed my brother's cell phone number: "Lesha, come quickly, I don't understand what's going on at home, I'm scared!" I hung up and waited. I was in a terrible state. To feel but not see, not know—it was terrible.

It had become completely dark outside. I thought I wouldn't survive the night, when suddenly I heard the click of the lock. It was my brother; he had arrived with his friends. We all went into the kitchen, but when my brother reached for the handle and went in, it turned under his hand. Since he's more reserved than I am, he kept quiet about it and only told me in the morning.

 I don't remember falling asleep, but I begged them not to leave me alone. That day, on my mother's advice, I sprinkled all the corners, doors, and handles of the apartment with holy water, saying a prayer (I don't remember exactly what I said). It got easier. But I still sometimes hear vague rustling sounds and feel someone's eyes on me...