00:00It was the kind of cold that didn't just touch your skin. It slid into your bones and stayed
00:05there. I remember that Christmas break clearly because I wasn't allowed to enjoy a second of it.
00:12My parents had grounded me again. Some minor infraction twisted into a complete two-week
00:18sentence. No gifts. No outings. No electronics. Just silence and scorn.
00:25The weight of their disappointment was heavier than the cold outside,
00:30and I felt a deep sense of isolation and longing for freedom.
00:35That night, they were heading out with friends for a party. Their friends dropped off two big
00:41golden retrievers to play with our own, Tana. I was told to stay in, feed the dogs, and not break
00:49anything. The house was decked out, as always, with those hollow plastic candles in every window,
00:56wired up to a central switch. They weren't fancy, but my mom thought they looked classy.
01:03The kind of thing you wouldn't want a grounded kid to mess with.
01:08As soon as the car pulled away and I was officially alone, I did what any teenager would do.
01:13I turned on the TV in the living room. The dogs all piled in with me, curling into warm shapes at my
01:20feet. The room was still wrapped in red and green garland. The only lights came from the soft flicker
01:26of the television and the dim, warm candlelight that lined the front windows. I felt a soft isolation.
01:35A cocoon of safety amidst the cold.
01:37The snow outside dulled the world, and for a moment I could almost forget I was grounded.
01:45But the dogs' sudden alertness and the eerie silence of the night shattered my illusion,
01:51sending a shiver of fear down my spine. It was a fear that seemed to grow with each passing moment,
01:57a tension that filled the air and made my heart race. I was terrified, my mind racing with
02:04possibilities of what could be causing this disturbance. Then, the barking started,
02:12shattering the tranquility of the night and sending a shiver down my spine.
02:18All three dogs sprang up like they'd heard a gunshot. Their sudden alertness was unsettling,
02:24as their behavior did not match the quiet night.
02:27They ran to the front door, growling, pacing, whining. Their actions, so out of character,
02:36sent a chill down my spine, intensifying my growing fear and unease.
02:41I muted the TV, my heart picking up. I approached the window near the front door and peeked out,
02:48my breath coming out in small puffs of mist.
02:50I strained my eyes to see through the darkness. Nothing. The yard was blanketed in untouched snow.
02:59The porch light was steady. No car. No people. No animals. No footprints.
03:08I felt a chill run down my spine, my heart pounding in my chest. Still, their hackles were up.
03:16All I could do was gently coax them back to the couch. Eventually, they calmed. It wasn't long
03:24before it happened again, each time heightening the sense of unease and mystery.
03:31I remember the second time because it startled me more than the first. They weren't barking this time.
03:37They were whining, low and sharp, and pacing in wide circles near the same window.
03:42So, again, I looked. Again, nothing. Maybe it was just a squirrel, I thought,
03:52or a car turning around in the cul-de-sac, headlights playing tricks on their instincts.
03:58But the repeated incidents were starting to chip away at my rationalizations,
04:02leaving a growing sense of unease and mystery.
04:05But it happened a third time. Then, a fourth. Then, a fifth.
04:15Each time, the barking grew more frantic. I tried checking other windows and walking outside onto
04:21the porch with a flashlight. Still no sign of life. And then came the last time.
04:28I'd just gotten up again to hush the dogs, who were now trembling rather than barking.
04:36I remember kneeling near the window, trying to silence them. But they weren't looking directly
04:41at the door anymore. Their gaze had shifted slightly to the left.
04:47Toward the candle. I looked at it. Nothing unusual.
04:52Then, it exploded. No sound. No warning. The plastic candle shot backward from the windowsill like it
05:02had been yanked. The plug tore from the outlet. It hit the wall with a sharp crack, and the bulb
05:08shattered on the floor inches from my feet. The dogs went berserk. Their snarling echoed off the walls.
05:14They didn't run at the window. They ran away. So did I. I grabbed all three leashes, even though none of
05:24them needed one indoors. I remember shouting, something panicked and incoherent, and rushing
05:31up the stairs to my room with the dogs tugging at me, just as desperate to escape. I locked the door
05:37behind us. Dumb, maybe. But it made me feel like I had done something. We stayed there for the rest of
05:46the night. I kept the dogs in my bed and left the light on. Every creak of the house felt deliberate.
05:54Every whistle of wind against the siding made me clench my fists. At some point, I must have dozed off.
06:02When I woke up, the sky outside had turned a pale, washed-out blue. A car door slammed below.
06:12My parents were home. I crept downstairs cautiously, dogs still pressed to my legs.
06:20The house smelled faintly of leftover cider and pine needles. The TV was off. The broken candle lay in
06:27pieces where I'd left it. The cord still curled on the floor like something had pulled it.
06:33My mom's first reaction? What did you do to my window candle?
06:39She didn't wait for an answer. My punishment was extended. My explanation, if I'd even tried,
06:47would have only earned laughter or another week locked away.
06:50I didn't say anything. It's not about the barking. Not about the window. Not about the way that candle
07:01left the wall like it had been thrown. It was as if something unseen had violently rejected its presence.
07:09A chilling reminder that not everything is as it seems. I thought about unplugging the rest.
07:16I really did. But part of me was afraid I'd find out which ones could move too.
07:23I spent the rest of that break in my room, pretending none of it happened. However,
07:28the dogs would no longer go near the living room. Even when my parents were home, the fear lingered.
07:36The incident had left an indelible mark on our home. A lingering unease that refused to be forgotten.
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