Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25170312-20140905054214

I remember when it started. The woman next door was strangled to death in her bed, with no sign of forced entry. Though her window was open, it was up on the fifth floor with no fire escape. The killer was never found, and the apartment remained vacant.

Some time after she died, I started having night terrors. I would awake in a fright, gasping for air. One night I opened my window and stuck my head out to take some deep breaths. That's when I first noticed him. A man was standing in the window of an apartment across the street. It was the only one with the lights on, and his body was just a silhouette. I couldn't really make it out at first, but he seemed to be outstretching his arms toward the window.

The next night, I awoke again in a panic. This time it actually felt like someone was choking me, but there was no one there. I assumed the incident with the woman next door was just making me paranoid. As I opened the window for some fresh air, I noticed him again. Just like the night before, there was one apartment across the street with the lights on, and a man standing in the window with his arms outstretched.

"Is that all this guy does?" I wondered. I got an eerie feeling that he was looking right at me, but it was hard to see. I closed the window, pulled the shades, and went back to bed.

I started getting curious about the man in the apartment across the street, so I bought some binoculars. During the day, I watched his window to see if there was anything going on. There was no activity, and not even any furniture that was visible from the window. I watched until the sun went down, but the lights in the apartment never went on.

That night I dreamed there was a man at my window. As I mentioned before, I lived on the fifth floor and there was no fire escape. It was hard to see his face, but I could tell he was staring at me. His presence was thick and suffocating. I ran to the window to close the shades, but he reached right through the glass and put his hands around my neck. I awoke screaming and ran to the window for real this time. Again, there was one apartment across the street with the lights on, and a man standing in the window with his arms outstretched. I grabbed my binoculars and got a good look. Immediately, I was terrified. He was definitely staring at my window, and his arms seemed to be reaching for me. I locked the window, pulled the shades, and hid under the blankets.

Each night I became more and more paranoid. I stopped looking out my window, and kept it locked at all times with the shades drawn. Even so, I could feel him staring at my apartment. I thought about calling the police, but I still wasn't sure if it was all in my head. Then came that horrible night.

As usual, I awoke in hysterics. But this time, my window was wide open and the shades were up. I looked across the street, and the man with his arms outstretched also had his window open.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" I shouted, slamming the window shut. I couldn't imagine how it opened by itself, but the fact that the man across the street also had his open was extremely suspicious. I locked the window, pulled the shades, and turned on the TV. There was no way I was going back to sleep. Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself until I started to pass out. I couldn't help it, so I shut off the TV and went back to sleep.

Later that night I awoke again in my bed, feeling like I was being strangled. Only now it was really happening. Two real hands were clasped around my neck, attempting to squeeze the life out of me. As I struggled to break free, I tried to get a look at my attacker. I followed the arms, expecting them to lead to a body, but they just kept going. They stretched all the way to, and out of, my open window. I couldn't believe it. Arms were reaching into my fifth story window, all the way to my bed, and were choking me!

I flailed around, trying to wrestle away from the freakish extremities. The grip was so tight around my neck, it hurt to move. Kicking and scratching at the arms did nothing, and I couldn't get my mouth close enough to bite them. My only chance was if there was something sharp in my nightstand drawer. I reached out in desperation as nails dug into my skin. I got the drawer opened, but trying to reach inside made the choking even more painful. Frantically, I felt around until I found a pen and began stabbing the left arm. I don't know how many times I stabbed it, but eventually it pulled back a little, removing the left hand from around my throat. I grabbed it, pulled it to my mouth, and bit down as hard as I could until I drew blood.

The left arm shook violently, trying to pull its hand from my jaws. Too much blood was getting in my mouth so I unclenched my teeth. Both arms began retreating as I spit and coughed. I watched at the window as the arms, which had stretched all the way across the street, retracted themselves. They were his arms. I couldn't look away as the hideous limbs slowly returned to him; to their normal length. This time, he put them down at his sides, and the light in his apartment went out.

I was about to call the police when I realized I had no idea what to tell them. A man reached into my window from across the street and tried to strangle me? I just sat there shaking, trying to get my thoughts together. I finally decided to say there was something suspicious going on and to please check out the guy's apartment. I made sure not to sound crazy, and they said they'd send someone.

Upon investigation, it was concluded that no one lived in that apartment. As for mine, I never went back. I paid to have all my stuff moved into storage, and I stayed at a friend's place for a while. One day I ran into a friend of a friend who had been to a few get-togethers I hosted. She had some interesting news.

"Guess what?" she asked with a smile, "I moved into your old apartment!"

I didn't want to tell her about what happened to me, so I just asked her, "Is everything going alright there?"

"Yeah, except for this guy in the building across the street keeps staring at my window at night. He always has his arms outstretched. Maybe he wants a hug?" She chuckled at the idea, and I told her to find a new apartment. 