When I moved into my new apartment, I thought it was weird that the closet in the hallway was nailed shut... from the inside. "Don't worry about that," my landlord had told me. "We can't pry it open, and even I can't kick it open. It's a teeny closet, anyway. You have two much bigger ones in your new place." I didn't think twice about it. The door was tall and rectangular, maybe 28 inches in height and 14 inches in length, and I knew the space inside wouldn't be much bigger. I just put a painting I had gotten from the big box store to cover the ugly black streak that had pockmarked the front of the door. Again, I didn't think twice about it.

The first night I slept in my new home, I heard a noise. A light, scratching noise that made me think mice had already decided to get comfy in my new home. I sighed and turned over, mentally telling myself that I would worry about calling an exterminator in the morning.

The second night I slept in my new home, I heard that light scratching again even though the exterminator had come out and trapped a few mice. I tried to ignore it, but it was keeping me awake. I turned my back to the door of my bedroom and placed a pillow over my head, hoping I could drown it out. I would have to call the exterminator, again, and this time I was making my landlord pay for it.

The third night I slept in my new home, not only did I hear that damned scratching noise again, it came with the sound of a keyhole jiggling. As if someone was sticking something into my lock and trying to get in. I jolted out of bed, "Who the fuck is there?" I screamed, but half heartedly. I was a single 22 year old white female, I wasn't going to be intimidating to any intruder. I jumped out of bed, but as soon as my feet slammed on my wooden floors, the noises stopped. All of them. "What in the actual fuck..." My brain began spinning, there was no way someone would have heard me get out of bed if they were trying to get in through the front door... The only other door in my home with a keyhole was the fucked up closet that no one could open. "No, no." I said out loud to the blackness of my empty rooms. I ignored all the thoughts in my mind, and just went back to bed. This time, closing my bedroom door.

The fourth night I slept in my new, but creepy, home, someone tried to get in. The sound of the doorknob violently shaking scared me out of bed. I sat upright, my eyes wide open in a gaze of terror. My bedroom door was half open, and I quietly got up and padded to my door and shut it. I pressed my ear against the grainy wood and could still hear the doorknob jiggling, except it was much too close to be the front door... I squeezed my eyes shut, trying so hard to prevent my mind from going into terror mode. "This isn't happening, this isn't happening..." I whispered into the door. "JUST FUCKING STOP!" I screamed, at the top of my lungs. The doorknob ceased to move immediately. I let out a huge breath, completely shaken to my core. I couldn't sleep the rest of the night. I stayed awake and stared at my ceiling with wide eyes until the sun rose.

On the fifth night I slept in my new home, I woke up to the sound of the door rattling in the frame. I don't know what came over me, I immediately jumped out of bed and walked to the closet. With my own eyes, I saw the door shaking as if someone was trying to open it, but from the inside. The doorknob was obnoxiously twisting, and I heard that light scratching, like nails too long that kept hitting the wood of the door with every twist of the handle. "What the fuck do you want?!" I screamed at the door. "I just want to fucking sleep!" All the movement stopped. I stood my ground, my hands balled into fists and my lips pursed ready to scream. I felt incredibly stupid for yelling at my closet door, but I knew something was in there... and it was trying to get out. I stood in front of the door for several minutes, nothing but silence answered my question. I trudged back to bed, slammed my bedroom door shut and moved my desk chair in front of my door. As if that would have stopped whatever was in my closet coming into my room.

On the sixth night I slept in my new home, I had a girlfriend who was sleeping over with me because I had expressed to her the terror I had been feeling at night. She was sharing my queen sized bed and we both jolted upright at the sound of the door violently shaking, as if it might break out of the frame. She looked at me, her doe eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "What the fuck is that?" She asked me, in the most serious tone she could manage. "I don't fucking know, I don't fucking know..." Tears began rolling down my face, I didn't know what to do. The growling began. This deep, guttural sound that only comes from the darkest spawn. This growl permeated every available space in the house, and it began to slowly form words. "Puer... Venit. Praecipio tibi ut... dimittas me." We looked at each other with wide eyes, the growling continued after it had spoken. It made my ears feel like there were glass shards being driven into my eardrum. "What the fuck, what the fuck do we do?!" She was sobbing, hands over her ears, she managed to grab her sweater from the chair and bolted out of my room. I didn't even hear her make it to my front door.

On the seventh night I slept in my new home, I stayed awake. There was no way I was going to sleep. Maybe if I didn't sleep, the monster in my closet wouldn't talk to me. Maybe if I didn't sleep, the monster in my closet wouldn't try to get out of the closet. Maybe if I didn't fall asleep...