Have you ever had someone knock on your second-story bedroom window while whisper-yelling “let me in!” at 3 in the morning? This happened to me the other night. And no, it was not a dream.
At first I didn’t know what was happening. All I knew was that I was startled awake by something. I heard tapping on my window and thought it might be a tree branch. As I laid there, the tapping became more and more intense. Then I heard the whisper-yelling: “Bekka! Let me in!”
I instinctively grabbed my phone off my nightstand (because it offers so much protection? Because I was going to call someone? I still can’t figure that one out). I saw that there were 3 missed calls from my sister. Weird. The knocking became even more intense. It was beating. I really thought my window was going to break.
After I heard the whisper-yelling about 4 more times, I decided to close my eyes and avoid looking out the window. If someone’s face was in it, I didn’t want to see. I rolled out of my bed (still in a completely horizontal position) and crawled across my bedroom floor. (Let me remind you that I am rather groggy at 3 in the morning. I wasn’t really thinking logically.) I just knew that I didn’t want to sit up in my bed and be staring into the eyes of another human being.
I made my way across my bedroom floor and opened the door. Without turning on my bedroom light, or any light for that matter, I crawled into the hallway. Then, I stood up (because the staircase is shielded from windows) and walked down the stairs to my front door. At that point, I really didn’t know what to do. My front window isn’t at the right angle to see all the way to my bedroom window. So I probably did the dumbest thing ever: I opened the front door.
It was just a crack, but I got a good enough view to see who the freak was who was surely standing on a ladder trying to break my bedroom window with his fists…
Her fists? Wait… her shovel?
After I figured out who it was, I opened the door wider. Standing there in my front yard, with a shovel raised above her head was my sister. Standing right below my bedroom, she was hitting my window with the shovel and whisper-yelling, “Bekka! Just let me in!” At that point, she saw the door open and headed toward me. I was ticked. As soon as she got to the door, I started whisper-yelling at her.
Me: “At what point did you think it was a good idea to break my bedroom window with a shovel while whisper-yelling my name and telling me to let you in?! Let me tell ya, that right there makes me want to just open the door right up for you!”
Leeah: “Oh my gosh! I didn’t even think about it like that! I called your phone a million times!” (3. I got 3 missed calls.) “Someone locked the bottom lock, so I couldn’t get in!”
Me: “Dude, I didn’t even unlock the bottom lock. I twisted the deadbolt to unlock the door.”
Leeah: “No, I swear, it was locked.”
Whether it was locked or not, that was one of the most horrifically terrifying experiences of my life. P.s. The whisper-yelling was what freaked me out the most. When I first heard it, this is what went through my head:
Okay, you can judge me now.