“Dammit Murkowski you’re always the last one to get out of my class” Yelled professor Thomas. What plans could a grouch him have I thought to myself. As I slid my economics book into my black adidas back pack. Why’s he in such a rush I doubt there’s anyone at home waiting for him. I walked out the building swiftly as to not piss off professor Thomas more than I already have. I hated his guts, but I still needed to pass the course. On my way home, I came to the realization that professor Thomas and I weren’t so different. We were both stubborn and had no one to go home too.  Maybe I’ll be like him when I’m Older I thought to myself. Maybe then I could pick on college kids who gave me trouble. I finally made it home It was nothing spectacular just an old building made of bricks. The inside is a bit rundown but it’s well worth it to escape the noise of dorm life. I opened the door and went directly to the tan sofa that was stained from an assortment of things and reeked of booze. With a half empty bottle of vodka in my hand I’d let the time fly like the goose on the bottle. In the blink of an eye it was 11:15 PM I passed out on the couch for I don’t know how long but when I woke up it was still dark out. The rain pressing against my walls trying to seep in. I began to hear footsteps invading my ears. This house was old, and the floorboards creaked with every step. You couldn’t hide anything from this house. A rush of fear flooded over me and left me drowning in my thoughts while I couldn’t even flinch a muscle. I felt trapped in time as if I was in a painting and forced to forever be in the same moment of time for all eternity. I walked to the kitchen shaking with every step. I didn’t turn in the lights, so I began to stick my hands out to get a better sense of my surroundings. I walked aimlessly for several minutes until I felt a handle. I pulled the cabinet towards myself inside I found a knife. I grabbed the knife I felt the sharp metal. Now with means to defend myself I’d go up the stairs in my house in complete darkness. I had to keep an iron grip on the cold railing stinging my hand the whole way up. The upstairs of my home was small with one hallway and two rooms. There was a stillness in the air that I felt could be broken at any moment. Like before the sound of footsteps surrounded my ear but this time something was different I could hear something else. It was like breathing. Long slow breaths I couldn’t tell from where. I could feel warm air pressed against my skin. Before I could do anything, cold clammy hands clamped my throat and my knife fell to the floor. I tried to fight back but the cold hands of death would just tighten their grip. The hands squeezing the life out of my body until there was none left, and I watched my world fade into darkness. When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was staring down my alarm clock which read 11:15 Pm. Had it really been a dream, I really thought I was dead. I pondered my thoughts until they were interrupted by what sounded like footsteps. I felt hot white stinging pain attacking me like a storm of wasps. I’d been killed once, and I wasn’t going to let it happen again. I clenched fist and felt adrenaline rush over me like a tsunami. I ran to my lights and flipped the switch and to my horror saw my killer. It looked strange and distorted out of this world even. It screamed a high pitch yell that practically made my ears bleed. It ran to me trying to put their crooked, long bony fingers once again around my neck. My instincts kicked in and I slammed the empty vodka bottle on this thing face. The glass shards lodged in its head it fell to the floor dead. The situation was so overwhelming that my mind went fuzzy and I passed out I woke up on my couch to find it was 11:15 pm and I could hear a familiar sound,footsteps.I felt warm breaths on my neck like before. Except this time or whatever it was whispered into my ear. And said “Welcome to hell”