When I first moved in, I didn’t notice the scratches on my bedroom door. I didn’t see the point in complaining to my apartment complex because 1) I didn’t want to be seen as the bitch who complains over a slightly damaged door and 2) the door still closed and opened so I’d only be complaining of its slightly less than perfect appearance. I figured the tenants before me just had a bigger dog that got riled up one day. Considering I had a medium-sized golden retriever, I had a feeling my dog would do the same, especially since we were significantly downsizing the space we used to have. My husband, well I guess my ex-husband, and I divorced, and I couldn’t bear to live in our once-shared house for a second longer. But I killed my career once I married him, so I didn’t have much money to spend on a place. Once he gave me the papers, I immediately started looking for a job, and I was lucky I found one so quickly despite being out of the market for a few years.
I liked my job; it gave me a purpose and sense of identity that I’ve been lacking for years now. But the only downside is that I don’t like having to leave my dog alone all day. She never liked being alone, especially after we moved into the apartment. I would come home, and she would have patches of fur lying on the ground. I figured she was nervous and was still adapting to the move, so to see how she was throughout the day, I installed some cameras around the apartment. The cameras even had a voice feature so during work I’d talk to her through it, which calmed her down more often than not. I hated not being there, but it seemed to help when I could talk to her, plus it made me feel so much better that I could see what she was up to during the day. Most of the day she’d sleep in her bed in the living room, but when she wasn’t, she’d pace around the apartment.
Surprisingly, she never really went into my bedroom. She’d stare into the room from the hallway, but she’d only step inside if I was there too. My husband, sorry ex-husband, didn’t like her in the bedroom so I assume her reluctance stemmed from that. However, after a couple of months of living there, I noticed that she ritually stared into the bedroom. She’d stand in the same spot in the hallway and stare for several minutes. It got to the point where I logged what time she went over there since it was so weird that she’d always go to the same spot. She’d always go around 1:11 p.m. I was baffled, but aren’t dogs and most animals creatures of habit? Well, at least that’s what I was telling myself. She started getting more and more skittish as time went on. She’d have full body shakes, missing ripped-out fur, and no amount of petting when I got home would calm her down, she was always on edge. It got to the point where I took her to the vet to see if there was anything else going on. Within a couple of minutes, she was diagnosed with separation anxiety, although I didn’t really need a vet to tell me that. When I brought her home, I started contemplating whether or not I should get another dog to keep her company. Before I moved, I did have another dog who passed away. Maybe having a friend would help her? So that next day, I searched the local animal shelter to see if I could find her the perfect playmate. And it only took me a few minutes to find her, she was another golden retriever, about her size and age as well, and she was the perfect choice.
Sure, two bigger dogs would most likely mean some damage to my apartment, but I was willing to pay the price. When I brought her home, I’d never seen my dog so happy. The bond between them was something I only imagined would happen, they couldn’t leave each other’s side. I still kept the cameras up just for my peace of mind, to see them and luckily from what I witnessed, they never fought, just played. Thankfully, the weird behaviors my dog exhibited subsided, and I could finally relax. And I did, for a couple of weeks. Until one night, as I was going to bed, I was shutting the door and noticed the scratches on the door were deeper. Not any additional scratches, the same scratches, but somehow deeper into the wood. I took a step back, puzzled about how this could’ve happened. In no way did they resemble my dogs’ claws, but to be safe and figure it out, I decided to check the camera footage. Now I didn’t want to put a camera in my room but when my dog was creepily staring into it, I put one up. But for some reason, the resolution in the room was too dark, even when it was light outside. At one point, I even switched cameras to see if it was faulty, but it worked just fine.
Anyway, I spent hours looking at the footage and saw nothing. It was still dark in the room, but it wasn’t until I was about to give up that I saw a flicker of motion coming from the corner of the room. I squinted my eyes thinking I was imagining things, but even after replaying it, I saw it again, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I decided to hand over the tape to one of my friends, to see if they could fix the resolution and make out the picture better. It took a few days to do this, and I was as anxious as ever. After I handed over the tape, I guess my dogs felt my anxiousness and decided to chime in because I would wake up with bloody scratches up and down my arms and legs. Deep ones too. They sort of compared to the ones on the door, so I started to think that perhaps my dogs somehow did replicate those scratches. Don’t ask me how, but again that’s what I had to tell myself and was what I believed until I received the footage. My friend appeared on my doorstep, early one morning. I had just woken up a couple of minutes earlier, putting on a bandage on another new scratch when he frantically knocked on my door. I had given him a key so I’m not sure why he didn’t just barge in, but I opened it nonetheless.
“Daniel? What are you doing here so early?”
“I need to show you what was on that footage.” He had wide eyes and looked over my shoulder before returning focus back to me.
“Okay…” I paused. “Why don’t you come in and show me then?”
“I’m not going in there.” I narrowed my eyes, unsure of why he was acting strange.
“Alright, well let me come out.” I shut the door and stood in the hallway, pulling my robe tighter as I waited for him to pull it up.
“I don’t think you should stay here anymore, Sarah.”
“What are you talking about? This is my apartment, Daniel. I just signed the lease.”
“I don’t think it’s safe for you. I think you should take your dogs and break the lease. You can come stay with me until you get it all figured out.”
I took a step back. “You’re really freaking me out here.”
He ran his hand through his black hair before saying, “Just watch.”
He handed me the phone and I looked closely. It had practically the same resolution, maybe a little bit better, but it was still hard to make out. “Daniel, this looks the same.”
“Sarah, just watch.”
I sighed and looked back again. Seconds went by and I didn’t see anything until the shadow from the corner of the room suddenly moved. I gasped and nearly dropped the phone when I saw a hand with devilishly long fingers with red fingernails poking out. I looked up at Daniel in horror and felt my stomach drop when I heard my dogs yelping inside.
Really good pace and suspense…hated to see the end so soon- a great macabre piece.