It

That thing has been there for almost a week, that figure in the window. It looks featureless - only skin on a human frame - and it's pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don't know how it got there and I don't know how to get rid of it.

At first, I thought it was a prank, maybe a doll or a mannequin that some jerks put there to scare me. However, as I walked out of my house to pull it away, I realized...it wasn't there. I shrugged it off, thinking someone hid it while I was walking through my door.

When I went back in and looked out the same window, it was looking in, staring at me. I walked around my house, yelling for whoever it was to come out, but no one was there.

The thing itself is hairless and naked. It didn't look like it actually had eyes or even a face, but its head is turned toward me when I enter the room. When I sit at my computer, it can feel its faceless hatred boring into the back of my head. When I turn around, it's innocently turned to a different direction.

Finally, on Thursday, I tried to open the window. It's stuck. I think the thing's hands are keeping it down. I got a good look at its face, though. Its eyes and mouth are behind the skin, pushing outward. It stared at me, smiling.

Of course, I screamed.

I pulled back a fist and smashed it into the glass, determined once and for all to get rid of the glaring monster. I know I'm strong enough and that glass should have crackd, but it didn't. It just shuddered under my hand. That smile got wider and wider until I thought its head would break in half.

It raised its own hand and bashed the window with its palm. It was mocking me, but when I saw the faintest crack begin to appear where it hit, I backed away. No way did I want that thing in the same room as me.

I got a roll of duct tape and started covering the window. I couldn't look directly at it. I nearly shit my pants just knowing it was watching me, but I couldn't help it. I took a quick glance at that skin-covered face. A small peek.

It was angry.

That grin was now a gaping frown full of teeth. The skin had been ripped away from its mouth and I could see down its cavernous throat. A menacing rumble started to fill the house and that hairline crack began to spread like splintering ice. I pulled down the duct tape.

The rumble stopped, the split skin healed over, and it began to smile again. Now it's night and the noise hasn't started again. There are no sounds, no rumble, no crackling glass. Everything's quiet now. I can feel its claws gripping the back of my chair. I can hear its skin stretching as it smiles.

It's watching me type.