The rain slams into the window and cascades down the glass. Dark, smoky clouds cover the sun and make it impossible to see outside. Greg sits on the old, musty brown couch that once belonged to his grandma before she died. He picks at the skin around his nails and waits for his dad to stop yelling.

“You’re lucky you found a man like me because no one else is ever going to love you,” Greg’s dad yells at his mom as she picks up the spaghetti he threw at her. Greg sits with his head down as his dad turns and looks at him. His gaze feels like fire on the back of Greg’s neck. Greg looks down and watches blood start to drip out of his nail bed. His hands are covered in Band-Aids that are bloody and falling off.

“I’m going out,” Greg’s dad says as he trips over the carpet.

His mom doesn’t say a word. She watches as her husband stumbles to the door, fumbles with the key on the hook, and slams the door behind him. Greg walks to the bathroom and opens a dark blue box filled with skin-colored Band-Aids. He walks back out and flops onto his bed, happy that his dad is gone. He lies there, watching the fan blades circle the ceiling.

He starts to look at his bloody, stinging hands, but something outside his window catches his eye. Greg sits up and strains to see what has drawn his attention. Through the driving, colorless rain shines a bright yellow light from his neighbor’s window. The neighbor’s house is probably about sixty yards away, so Greg gets out of bed and walks closer to the glass.

In the window is the silhouette of a woman with long hair. It looks like she’s wearing a nightdress or long, flowy outfit. The rain makes it hard to see her face, but Greg can tell she’s staring back at him. He thinks maybe she heard the screaming and is just making sure everything is okay. Greg waves at the woman and gives a thumbs-up, hoping she’ll turn around and close her blinds. She doesn’t.

Instead, she stands up straighter. Greg watches as she slowly raises her hands and touches the glass. Greg almost presses his nose to the window, trying to see what she’s doing. Suddenly, the woman rears back and slams her head into the window. The lights in her house flick off, then on again. Greg stumbles back onto his bed. When he returns to the window and looks again, the woman is gone. He hurriedly snaps the curtains shut and runs into the kitchen.

“Mom!” Greg yells, but she isn’t there.

“Yes?” his mom yells back as she walks out of the bathroom.

“Mom, I saw a woman in the neighbor’s window! She slammed her head into the glass and then disappeared!” Greg blurts out. His mom stares at him blankly.

“Greg, no one lives in that house. No one has for years. You probably just had a nightmare,” she says, concern creeping onto her face.

“No, Mom, something was there!” Greg yells.

“Go back to bed. Everything is fine,” she says, gently guiding him back down the hall to his room. Greg unwillingly climbs into bed. He keeps his eyes trained on the covered window, as if it might come alive at any moment. Eventually, he falls asleep staring at the curtains…

Greg wakes up drenched in sweat. Cold air hits the back of his head, giving him goosebumps. Thunder booms outside, making him jump. He looks over to see wind blowing through the open window–Wait, that window was closed, he thinks to himself–making the curtains dance. Rain blows into the room through the break in the curtains and soaks the floor. Greg slides out of bed and hurries to shut the window.

He pushes the curtains aside and places his hands on the frame of the fully open window. Looking down, his eyes lock onto something moving in the yard, a creature making eerie clicking noises as it crawls through the rain-soaked grass and towards the house. Greg slams the window shut and runs for the door. He throws it open and sprints toward his mom’s room.

“Mom! Mom, someone is outside my window!” Greg screams as he runs through the house, opening doors. His voice echoes back at him. The house is empty. He searches every room, panic rising.

Greg rushes back to his bedroom and presses his face against the glass. Standing in the muddy yard about twenty yards away is a woman. Greg freezes.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” he shouts.

The woman steps closer, then closer again. Greg stares in horror, hoping it’s just a bad dream or his dad playing a joke. When she’s close enough, he sees her face clearly. Her long, stringy white hair is tangled at the roots. Her eyes have no color—completely white and glazed—and stare unblinkingly. Her buck teeth match the whiteness of her eyes, jutting out from her emotionless lips. Pieces of her nightdress trail behind her in the red mud.

Greg steps back and trips over his sheets. He throws his arm out as he falls hard onto his back. A cracking sound fills the room. Pain shoots up his arm. He looks down and sees it bent at the wrong angle. Ignoring the pain, Greg struggles to his feet, only to fall again when he sees the woman’s face, now inches from the glass.

“Go away!” Greg screams.

The woman presses her hands to the window and throws herself against it. The glass cracks but doesn’t break. She does it again and again. Greg forces himself upright, pain screaming through his arm. The glass bows inward with her final slam, but still doesn’t shatter.

Greg crawls until his back hits his bedroom door. He watches in terror as the woman raises a shriveled white finger. Blood drips from her nailbed as she points past him. He turns and sees his dad standing there.

“Dad! There’s a woman outside my window…” Greg says, then stops. When he looks back, the window looks perfectly normal. The woman is gone.

“She was there. I promise!” Greg says, turning back to his father. He freezes.

His dad’s eyes are completely black. His skin is pale and sunken. Moonlight reflects off his wide, toothy smile. Blood floods down his fingertips.

“I know,” his dad says in a deeper voice than normal as his mom steps out of the shadows. “She’s here to keep you safe from us.”