Paranoia.

It is dark, so dark I can't see my hands in front of my face. I hear a crash, it has come from the garage. My garage is not isolated from my house. If there is something out there it has access to everything, to me. I stare at the door to the garage, well, I stare to where I know the door is, but I cannot see it. I don't move. I am frozen in place with fear. My mind conjuring up every terrifying possibility imaginable, but never a good one. When I do finally move, it is to grab a weapon. I have no idea how I will use it, or if I could, but it makes me feel safer. I eventually make my way to the door, turning on every single light in the house. I open the door and boxes are scattered everywhere, their contents expunged and strewn about everywhere. My eyes glared around the room, searching it for a trace of movement, a sign of something that didn't belong. Nothing. Somehow this made me even more scared. I ran out, sliding the chain across as I left, scared that whatever it was, was coming to get me.

It was not until 3 am that I finally got to sleep, even then it was a restless and fearful sleep. When the sun shone I made my way back to the garage, bayonet in hand. It was just as I left it, the boxes on the floor blocking the path between the wall and the ladder. I looked around again, it seemed safe enough. I went to take my washing out of the machine only to find the spin cycle hadn't finished. I turned it back on. The machine shook so violently that it bashed into the wall over and over.

Now I see what had caused the boxes to fall. My fear and paranoia did the rest, though I still put the chain on at night.