The Figure in the Window

I was young, maybe in first grade, when this happened. It was Christmas break, and my aunt had come home on leave from the Navy. We had not seen her in a long time, so my older sister and I were excited to have her staying with us. Our family lived in a small three-bedroom house on Locust Avenue in Buckhannon, West Virginia.

My sister and I decided to have a sleepover in her bedroom so we could be near our aunt, who was sleeping in my sister’s bed while we slept on the floor at the foot of it. I do not remember if it was Christmas Eve or just another night during the break, but sometime in the middle of the night, my sister shook me awake.

She whispered, “Hey, you gotta trade me places. There’s something in the window, and I’m scared.”

Still half asleep, I glanced toward the window but did not see anything. My sister was three years older than me and had played pranks on me before, so I did not think much of it. I did not want to argue and ruin the fun of the sleepover, so I just did what she asked. I crawled over her and settled into the spot she had just left.

Lying there, I absentmindedly smoothed the hair on my doll and admired its dress. I was sure my sister was just trying to scare me because she was bored. To prove it to myself, I decided to look at the window one more time.

That is when I saw it.

Even now, nearly 40 years later, the memory still chills me. The back porch light was on, illuminating the blinds, and there, pressed against the glass, was the silhouette of something that was not human.

It had a tall, unnaturally thin body with narrow shoulders. Its head was flat and oblong, perched on a long, craning neck. But the hands are what haunt me most. They were spread wide against the windowpane, long and skeletal, with only four fingers that stretched too far, as if it were straining to peer inside.

The moment I saw it, my eyes darted away and locked onto the closet door beside me. Every instinct in my body screamed at me not to look back. I froze, barely breathing and barely blinking, too terrified to move. I stayed that way for what felt like forever, waiting for morning to come.

I never fell back asleep. When my mom finally came in to wake us for breakfast, I was finally able to move again.

I do not remember much else from that time in my life, but that night has never faded. I cannot remember the days or weeks that followed, only the feeling of sheer, paralyzing terror. People can say what they want. Maybe they would chalk it up to childhood imagination or a bad dream. But I know what I saw.

My sister was not trying to scare me. She was scared too.

I did not see it at first, but when I did, I knew I would never forget it.

That thing in the window was real.

And it still lingers in my nightmares.