A/N Hey again everyone! This is my entry for this week's Tardigrade assignment: to write a story about what would happen if you were at home with a power outage. Enjoy!

Dear diary,

Something strange is happening. I don't know what it is exactly, but something is lurking in the darkness. If I don't survive tonight, this entry is an account of what happened to me.

Let me start at the beginning.

Today is December 15th, 2019. It's been snowing all day; the worst snowstorm the country has seen in years. My fiance is working a night shift at the hospital, so I'm home alone. A few hours ago, at exactly 6pm, all the lights suddenly turned off. The apartment is pitch-black.

I know what you're going to say; that's nothing special. The lights went in all the apartments and houses in my block. It's just the snow. But it's more than just darkness.

It's the noises.

It started about an hour ago. A loud, high-pitched scream came from just outside my apartment. Like the wail of a banshee. It chilled me to the bone.

Not half an hour ago, the same sound erupted again. And again. No matter how much I pushed my hands over my ears, as I sat on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around me, the shriek still penetrated my brain.

A strange whooshing joined the chorus now, like some kind of otherworldly orchestra. As if ghosts were calling for my attention.

Then, a few minutes ago, another noise made its way into my house. Something scratched at the door. This time, whatever monster had arrived in this world wasn't just outside anymore. It was right at my door.

There it is again! Oh God... Why me? What does it want from me? Did it come to... To kill me? If only my phone was charged, so I could ring for help!

It's been several minutes, and the scratching won't stop. I've decided to take a peek through the curtains. I want to know what it is. If it's here to kill me, I want to at least know what it is I'm defending myself against.

I'm going to take a look.

As I put my pen down, I notice my hand is trembling. I wrap the blanket tighter around me, as if that'll protect me from whatever's out there. I push myself off the sofa and slowly, step by step, make me way over to the window beside the door. The scratching still hasn't stopped. Everything in me wants to run upstairs and hide under the covers.

But I will not give up without a fight.

With one trembling finger, I slide the curtain aside just enough to look through the gap.

A gasp escapes my lips. It's empty. There is nobody there. Yet the scratching continues.

I'm ready to flee upstairs, when another sound, much softer this time, catches my attention. It sounds almost like the shrieking from before, but much quieter. Much more innocent. Almost like...

The meowing of a cat?

I pull the curtain aside a bit further and there he is: the neighbour's cat, Luna, scratching at the wrong door.

With a sigh, I open the door and let the poor kitty in. There's a gash on her face and blood seeps from a wound on her paw. She must've been in a fight. Which was probably the shrieking I heard earlier... I'm such an idiot.

It's a good thing my fiance didn't see me like this. I'm going to tend to poor Luna and then burn those pages of my diary. He can never see this.