At 2 o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by a sound of footsteps.
The sound was very light, like someone walking slowly in soft soled shoes in the living room. I turned over, thinking to myself that it was probably my husband who woke up at night. He has been suffering from insomnia recently and often wakes up in the middle of the night to drink water.
The footsteps stopped outside the bedroom door.
I opened my eyes and stared at the faint light seeping in through the crack in the door. The shadow remained motionless, like a sculpture. I held my breath and waited for a few seconds, but suddenly the shadow disappeared.
The footsteps sounded again, this time heading towards the stairs.
I breathed a sigh of relief and touched my phone to check the time. The screen lights up and displays 2:17 am. I casually clicked on WeChat to send a message to my husband, asking him not to make too much noise.
In the dialogue box, the husband sent a voice message half an hour ago. I clicked on it, and his voice sounded sleepy: ‘Wife, I’m working overtime tonight and sleeping at the office. Don’t wait for me.’
I stared at my phone, and my blood froze instantly.
Who is the person in the living room?
The footsteps suddenly stopped.
Not slowly stopping, but abruptly stopping, as if something had cut your throat. I froze in bed, hearing my heart beating as loudly as a drum.
Then, I heard the sound of breathing.
It didn’t come from outside the door, it came from under the bed.
The breathing was light and steady, with a patient rhythm, as if waiting for a long, long time. I slowly lowered my head and saw a strand of hair hanging down from the edge of the bed, with the tips still swaying gently.
I suddenly sat up, grabbed my phone, and rushed out the door. The induction light at the staircase turned on, revealing a figure walking down. The man was wearing my husband’s pajamas, and his figure and gait were identical.
He walked up to the first floor, suddenly stopped, and looked up.
The light illuminated his face.
It’s my husband.
He smiled at me, his lips moving without making a sound. Then he turned around and walked into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door.
I stood at the stairway, trembling all over. Because just now, I clearly saw it——
On the back of his head, there is also a face.
That face was facing me, with the corners of his mouth wide open to his ears, silently smiling.
The refrigerator door in the kitchen was pushed open from the inside.
