The 1 o'Clock Hour

I and my friends had gone for a picnic in the jungle. As the day began to end, we decided to leave the forest but were unable to find a way out. We had lost track and what came next was really horrible. A sudden storm had occurred causing us to get separated. 

After about half an hour, the storm stopped. Luckily, I was unhurt and safe but to my dismay, I was left all alone. All my friends were gone.

After many unsuccessful efforts to find any of them and the sky getting, even more, darker, I decided to find shelter and continue my search the next day.

After walking a few miles, I saw some sparks of light over a hill. Guessing it to be fire, I started climbing the hill.

On reaching the top of the hill, I was astonished to see a huge villa, fully lit. As I was too exhausted (because of the tiring day and climbing the hill) I didn't think twice and entered the house. I called out but nobody answered. Thinking that the people of the house might have left the house because of the storm, I decided to stay for the night and wait for them to return, also hoping for my friends to find this house.

The house was a bit cold but beautifully decorated and well-maintained.

I was sitting on the sofa admiring all this when I heard some really creepy noise which can make the hair on the back of your neck stand. I looked around bewildered. I was starting to settle down when at once I felt someone move behind me. I almost shrieked with fear to find nobody but the window curtains swinging in the air. A bit frustrated with my behaviour, I immediately stood up and closed the windows.

 Recommending myself a good sound sleep, I went into one of the guestrooms on the ground floor. I had a peaceful s

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leep until a sound in the kitchen woke me up at about 1 o'clock. I just moved out of the bed towards the kitchen sleepily, not noticing what I was doing. At that moment, a huge shrill wail came from the kitchen-''AAAAAAAAaaaaaa", I was frozen to death. 

After what appeared to be a minute, when the wail had stopped, I mustered some courage and peeped into the kitchen and to my horror found blood spilt all over the floor, on the wall, on the utensils, and almost everything.

Regaining myself, I sped towards my room to take my things and leave the house at once when I saw the living room fireplace alit. I saw a man sitting on the armchair in front of the fireplace. Guessing him to be the owner of the house, I moved forward but stopped at once. For in a blink of an eye the man had vanished.

Barely controlling my tears and sweating with fear, I packed my things and was about to leave when something hit my head at the back and I stumbled on to the floor. 

When I woke up, it was already morning, though everything seemed normal, I felt a bit different. I presumed that the owners of the house had returned for there were people in the house. Instead of moving out, I decided to stay there.

It has been a long while since I'm here. It's nice in here. I knew I wouldn't be able to tell my stories to everyone so I just wrote it down. I meet a lot of people here but they always run away sooner or later. I don't know why. My dead self isn't that bad-looking, and screaming in the kitchen at 1 with my new friends isn't that bad either. 

P.S. I would definitely like to meet you who read my story till the end. Hope you cross the jungle. Will meet you soon in the next world.