Keep your eye on it!

You decide to to hide in your room and wait out the night. You know that logically it is probably your dad coming straight home after hearing about your mom dying, but fear and imagination get the better of you. You remember those yellow eyes outside of your house. You are scared of something, you just don’t know what. You dash quickly to your room and practically fall to the ground trying to get under your bed. You feel your knees starting to bruise from the impact against the hard, tile floor, but you ignore the pain. On your hands and knees, you crawl beneath your bed, and you settle into a spot in which you can see outside of your slightly ajar door. The moment you settle in, you hear the soft creak of the front door opening. You know that this strengthens the argument that it is probably your dad because no one else would just confidently open the door, but somehow it makes you even more scared. You hear quiet, almost inaudible footsteps coming from the hallway outside of your room. The footsteps gradually become louder. Suddenly, as if they appeared out of nowhere, those demonic yellow eyes appear in your doorway. Now that they are closer and not in the pitch black night, you can see that they are connected to a man wearing all black. You also notice that they are part of a mask that is pulled tight over a long face. The man slowly, carefully opens the door to your room and walks in. He sits directly above you on the bed you are hiding under. You can barely hear the creak of its springs over the deafening pounding of your heart. You hear a faint noise that sounds like tape being ripped off something, and assume that the man has taken off his mask. After a few moments the man gets up and begins to leave. Once he is in the doorway, he turns back one last time. What you see shocks you even more that your mom dying; you see that the man is none other than your dad. His face is stony and set, showing none of the grief you would expect to see after learning that your mother, his wife, has died. You emit a soft gasp, which you quickly suppress. Luckily, your dad does not hear it. He moves out of the doorway and your vision. You hear his retreating footsteps, and then the creak of the front door closing. It takes a few minutes for you to muster the will and courage to move out of your hiding spot and onto your bed. After a few agonizing hours that are spent wondering what just happened, you manage to fall asleep.
The next day when you wake up you immediately go into the living room to look for your phone. You are thinking about calling your dad. You are confused about last night and don’t believe what you saw. When you walk into the living room you are surprised to see your dad, wearing dark blue jeans and a casual t-shirt, what he wore to work yesterday. He looks disheveled. His hair is a mess and his clothes are crumpled. He was the image of a grieving man. He seemed to be drowned in sorrow. He didn’t even notice you walk in. You say nothing, retrieve your phone and go back to your room.