It had been a long day, and I was exhausted. I had just tucked my son into bed and was about to drift off to sleep when I heard a loud banging at the door. I quickly got up and opened it, only to find the weird homeless guy who was always “talking to God” standing there. He was holding something in his hand, and before I could react he had marked our door with what appeared to be blood.
I was horrified, and quickly rushed to get some cleaning supplies to try and scrub it off. I was relieved when I finally managed to get it all off, and I quickly shut the door and locked it.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong though. I had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
The next few days passed without incident, but I was always on edge. I had a feeling that something was going to happen, and I was right.
One night, I heard a loud banging at the door again. I opened it to find the homeless man standing there, and this time he was holding a knife. He lunged at me, and I managed to get away. I quickly ran back inside and locked the door.
I was shaken, but I knew I had to protect my son. I stayed up all night, listening for any sounds that might indicate the homeless man was still outside. I was relieved when morning came and I hadn’t heard anything.
I now make sure to keep the door locked whenever I’m home. I’m still not sure what the homeless man was up to, but I’m thankful that I managed to get it cleaned off before I tucked my son into bed.