One summer ago...

Andy Crow had a peculiar feeling that the bald tree outside his room's window would slink its slender branches inside to pull him out of the house. It scraped against the rain-soaked glass panes, seeking entrance.

It was ten minutes past midnight, and the wind was howling outside. The hail accompanied the rain as they stormed down towards the ground. A loud crack tore in the sky, and its flash filled his entire bedroom with a blinding light that he could almost make everything out.

Before Andy went to bed pretending to be asleep, the clear night sky showed no warning of a maelstrom. But here he was, looking out his bedroom window face-to-face with the violent beast.

Another loud crack of thunder resounded. This one was so powerful that Andy felt the whole house tremble under the force of the storm. He crawled deep under his blankets, covering himself from head to toe, leaving nothing but a small space exposed, just large enough for him to peek outside. He could see the small vanity as clear as day across the room. Sitting undisturbed on top of it was the current project he planned to finish over the summer. And if it weren't for his aunt banning him from touching his "pieces of junk," he wouldn't be staying so late just to have the chance to tinker with his invention project in secret. Then he should be asleep right now, oblivious of the storm's rampage.

A heavy thud followed by a sickening crash made Andy jump out of his wits. Shaking, he scooted closer to the headboard and hugged his favorite blanket against himself, imagining he was back at the comforts of his home. His mouth filled with the bitter taste of fear. His parents taught him to always be cautious of his surroundings. And whoever caused that sound might be a thief.

But no, he thought to himself, shaking his head. Aunt Carol owned a lot of cats. It could be one of them.

Indeed, his aunt's cats always loved to cause a stir around the house at midnight, and they would wake up finding the couches snagged and the furniture upturned. Still, Aunt Carol didn't have the heart to get rid of them.

Despite his reassurances to himself, Andy found himself fumbling around in the dark. With the help of the lightning, he found his round-rimmed glasses on the desk, wore them, and left the safety of his bed with a sickening feeling in his stomach. He stopped and retrieved a four-foot curtain rod as he passed his closet. The storm seemed to be collecting more energy with every minute that passed by.

Andy edged down the stairs in his space-designed pajamas and socks. Aunt Carol had made sure to tuck him in bed, and she'd be thinking he was out cold. But what if there was a thief? His aunt was a heavy sleeper. She won't be awake even if her cats would run over and scratch her face.

Even with the tiniest sound, Andy would jump in fright and look for the culprit. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard a furious whisper floating from the farthest left of the hallway on the first floor.

"Woah!" Andy's foot slipped on the last step. He stumbled and bumped against the hallway wall.

"Ow," he said in a pained whisper, massaging the right side of his head.

Squinting his eyes, he surveyed the area where he slipped. Scattered on the floor in pieces was his aunt's favorite oriental vase, and the waters had swamped the floorboard.

Andy noticed a tiny glint of blinking yellow light beside it, and Jinx, Aunt Carol's Persian cat, emerged from the shadows and rubbed herself on Andy's leg.

"Oh, no, Jinx. Aunt Carol wouldn't like this. If she asks tomorrow, I'll tell her it's you."

Jinx meowed back at him as if to say, Try it, or she'll know you've been out of bed.

Andy frowned at this. He didn't want to be a bad kid in front of her eyes. His aunt had a weird way of punishing kids. It was not something painful, but it sure was still nasty.

Andy was stroking Jinx's fur and was about to scoop her up when the cat scrambled out of reach and ran into a hallway adjacent to the living room. He hesitated for a moment, but he followed when Jinx stopped and looked back at him.

There was only one door in that part of the house. As he stayed there over the summer, Aunt Carol made clear her only rule, and that was never to enter that room.

Jinx disappeared behind the slightly ajar door. Blue and green light streamed from its tiny gap.

Andy's footsteps were as light as air as he inched closer to take a look. The hushed yet frantic whispers he heard when he descended the stairs were now louder and more apparent. Though he could not make sense of every word, it appeared that the person was speaking in some other language he had never heard before. It didn't sound anything like Aunt Carol!

He tried to peer inside, though it turned fruitless when a black silk drape blocked his view. Still, he could smell the horridness of the room, reeking of rotten eggs and dead rats. Andy's eyes watered; his insides were burning, clawing their way out.

The room's putrid smell had long invaded his nose, and a tiny sneeze had finally escaped from his already pinkish nose.

The sound ceased to a stop, and that was Andy's cue to race back to his room, not minding if his heavy running created a sound that echoed around the still house. He wasted no time diving into his bed, hiding under his blanket, and clamping his eyes hard.

He sucked in a breath as he heard his door creaking. There was the sound of light footsteps, and he sensed that someone stood beside his bed, towering over his small and shaking frame.

Andy waited for something to happen, but another light footsteps followed by the sound of the door closing.

That night too, the storm had strangely stopped as if someone had turned off the faucet. Only one thing kept playing in Andy's head. He and Aunt Carol weren't the only people inside the house. But the following day, as he sneaked open the door, he found the room windowless and empty. A slap in the face telling him that what he had heard last night was just a delusion.

Andy could only wish that the summer would finally end.