Footsteps Upstairs
Steps where no one should be
On their third night, Emma was sleeping deeply when a sound woke her.
Someone was walking slowly across the floor above their bedroom.
There were heavy, careful steps, moving from one wall to the other.
She sat up in the dark, and her heart was beating very fast.
"Tom," she whispered, "there is someone upstairs; I can hear them."
Tom was breathing quietly beside her, still lost in a deep sleep.
She shook his arm while the footsteps continued above their heads.
"There are no other people in this house," he murmured, half awake.
"You were dreaming, Emma; old houses make strange noises at night."
But Emma was certain that she had been fully awake at the time.
The steps stopped for a moment, as if someone were listening to them.
Then they began again, slower now, moving toward the narrow .
Tom sat up at last, because even he had heard the sound clearly.
"There is a reason for this," he said, reaching for the lamp.
While he was searching for his slippers, the footsteps suddenly stopped.
The two of them were standing at the bottom of the stairs together.
There was nothing above them but cold air and a thick silence.
Tom climbed the stairs slowly while Emma was holding the small .
Every room upstairs was empty, and every window was shut.
"See? There is no one here," Tom said, though his voice was shaking.
On the floor, a thin line of dust had been disturbed by something.
It looked exactly like the mark that feet would leave behind.
Emma knelt down and noticed that the dust was still slowly moving.
"We were both awake, Tom," she said. "You cannot we weren't."
Neither of them slept again while the dark hours passed so slowly.
And somewhere in the house, they felt, something was quietly waiting.