After a few dull days I awoke one morning to a set of footprints in the carpet. Just outside my bedroom door, the length of a childs, as if the poor thing had spilt something on their feet a ring of stain on the floor, dark black, with the pristine white footprints set just in the middle. I told my family about them and they laughed at how odd they were, but dismissed it as just a stain.

I followed suit and tried to ignore it. But the following day showed me that I never could.

The footprints had changed.

There they were. The 2 little prints, facing straight at my bedroom door. The stain around them blacker than the previous day, and no trace of the footprints I originally noticed.

That night I struggled to sleep, I began to hear noises. I presumed they were from the flat upstairs, and stuck to that theory. But as the vacation progressed, the footprints still moved, ever closer to my door. I switched rooms, for we were in a suite with a spare bedroom on the opposite side of the hall from my first, but the next day the prints had turned still to face me, almost at the threshold of my room. The noises were getting louder and louder and I found I couldn’t sleep for more than an hour each night. I remember waking on occasions, completely outwit my bed, on the floor by it trembling. I still thought the noises were the neighbours, they were just normal sounds: loud footsteps, voices.

I was so relieved to leave that place. We exited as early as possible, due to my request. I still haven’t told my parents the footprints changed, but I just said I wanted to get home quickly. As I left I noticed that the footprints had gone, all that was left was the black stain, almost jet black after these 2 weeks.

I am home now, the hotel is behind me and I am happy. But I’m hearing noises from the floor above me: footsteps and voices. But we live on the top floor. I’m not sleeping to well, In fact I can’y sleep at all. And there is a set of footprints at the bottom of my bed.