This was the third night in a row where I saw him with his face pressed against my window staring into my bedroom with that creepy smile. His hand waving back at me as I sat up from my bed. That was it, I had enough at this point. I didn’t even wake up my wife this time. I stood up, grabbed the shotgun that I already had loaded and in my closet and stormed toward my front door. If the cops couldn’t do anything the past two nights, I guess I had to do things the hard way. I pushed open the front door and pumped my shotgun.

“Listen here you freak!” I screamed as I walked off my porch. As I circled around the house toward my bedroom window he was gone, nowhere to be seen. I screamed out into the night. “The next time I see you I’ll put a slug right into your chest!”

My bedroom light flicked on as I screamed out at the punk. I looked into the window expecting to see my wife looking at me. But there he was again, waving at me with a bloody knife in his hand, and a red-stained yellow face as he grinned from ear to ear.

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