I sit here on the wooden floor, waiting behind the closet door. It is locked and there is no way out. Hanged clothes are blocking my vision. No one is outside to set me free. A light creeps through the crack under the door. Knocking is no use, for no one can hear me. I'm alone in this house, and in this house is a closet, and I am sitting in this closet. If only I wasn't careless, I could be outside and smell the fresh air, but all I can smell is dust and old clothes. I brush my hair back with my hand and grasp my neck tight. I look down waiting for someone. The light has left me as I sit in darkness. My back is itching and feels like someone is behind me. I lay back on the floor looking up into the dark clothes. Trying to fall to sleep, my eyes close, though the Sandman isn't spraying his dust. Memories flash by like a speeding train in my mind, my courage lowering, my fear growing and my heart is pounding non- stop. SCRATCH. I heard a sound from the other side of the door. I get up knocking for help, pleading for my life. SCRATCH. Someone is out there, I know it, and wants me to stay in the closet. I yell and yell until I burst into tears. I lean my head on the door and slouch my body over as I knock on the wood repeatedly. SCRATCH. Tears drip down my cheek onto the wooden door. I turn the locked knob repeatedly. I start pulling and pushing it rapidly hoping for someone to get me out. The eerie feeling of someone touching my back grows which each breath I take. I scratch my back repeatedly until it bleeds. SCRATCH. I yell for the dreadful noise to cease over and over again, and it grew louder and harder than ever. I lean on the door with my upper body and my lower body lying on the wooden floor. The air is thin; I am gasping for air, yelling for help. SCRATCH. I bang on the door repeatedly until my hands bled. Something was behind me crawling up my back. I scratch and scratch expecting to hit something but I collide into nothing but my blood. I lean back on the wall opposite the door. I slouch, I cover my ears from the terrible scraping noise from the other side of the door. No matter what I do, it gets louder and louder. SCRATCH. I kick the door repeatedly with my feet. The sound only gets louder with each sound I make. The haunting sounds making me grow a headache. I grab a hanging coat and wrap it around my head. SCRATCH. The sound grows louder and louder. I yell and tie the coat tighter and tighter. SCRATCH. The horrifying noise grows louder and louder. I tie tighter and tighter. It stops. I hear nothing from the other side of the door. The feelings on my back are no longer there. The coat is still around my head. I lift my arm to take it off, but it is tied tight. I couldn't hear a thing, and I couldn't take off the coat. I lay down on the floor waiting for the Reaper to take me.