She peeped outside her window to see if anything had made its way from the river to her door. To her surprise, it was all silent. Until, she heard a feeble knock. She looked through her window to notice the same hand that had attempted to grab her knocking on her door. Only, it was just a hand. Suddenly, she was less intimidated by it but she was terrified enough to not open the door. She waited for the hand to grow tired and venture back into the river bed. Time passed and the hand continued to knock. The knocks were well spaced but after a while Shantha noticed a rhythm and urgency to them.
Desperately, she called out, “What do you want!”
A voice escaped the hand, “Leave this house!”
She cowered behind the door in silence. The hand began to pound on the door. Her rescue team was nowhere in the scene. She couldn’t be frightened by a bitsy albeit ugly hand. She threw open the door hiding a knife behind her back. There were slits and funny enough the hand looked like it was frowning. The more she looked at it, the more it resembled roots of a very old tree. The brown curly bits of its tips were bent and strings of hair were present. The thick part of its body wore a cruel expression. The eyes and nose disappeared and appeared from view based on the frown. It seemed to Shantha as if the hand could only frown. For its size, the hollow, sober voice did not comply.
In one swift motion, Shantha bent down and jabbed the knife into the thickest part of the hand. A bark like fluid emerged from its body. There was not a sound from the hand anymore. Its limp body lay on her foot mat.
Emergency services arrived a while later. Shantha had nothing to show them so she merely said, “False alarm.”