A Ghost At Bedtime

It was a wet Winters night.
One of the darkest That December had yet seen.
The wind howled around the eaves and sought entry where-ever it could. Rain splattered in thick black drops,that ran truculently in rivulets down my window pane. I looked outside at the swaying trees, branches reaching for me with claw-like fingers. Now and then twigs scratched and screeched against the window and set my teeth on edge.
It was very cold in the room and I desperately wanted to get up and get a hot drink, but something felt wrong. That it would not be safe.

So I lay there shivering...waiting.

Waiting; for what!

I thought to myself, This is all such nonsense! I must just get to sleep. I snuggled down under the downy duvet and breathed in the scent of cleanly laundered sheets.

It was then that I heard the footsteps. Coming up the stairs,slowly ,surely towards my room.
A steady,creeping sound,each step jarring and more terrifying than the last.
I must be imagining these awful footfalls, for I am completely alone in the house. There is no one to come up the stairs.
Closer and closer. Louder and nearer and more and more scary.
A deluge of water hits the window and makes me jump, just as the unthinkable happens...the door handle starts to move. Slowly, turning-opening, the door groaning on it's hinges.

There in the doorway is a figure. A lady all in white. She stands and glares at me. Malevalence in her countenance. shoulders hunched with suppressed hatred.
"leave this place" she sighs a whispering damp and hissing voice that sounds like the icy wind bourne from Arctic snowfields.
"leave this place,this house is mine. You are not welcome here."
These last words spoken so quietly I could barely hear what she said, as I quivered and cowered in my bed.
Just as I thought I would die of fright,the lady in white turned and left as she had come,closing the door behind her. Creeping footsteps retreating back downstairs into the gloomy shadows...leaving me a shivering wreck.