30-minute Writing Challenge - A Disturbing Night

The wind gales hard tonight. The curtains rippled rhythmically with whistles of the cool nightly air. The doors banged and the shutters creaked. Ghostly silence that has faithfully accompanies him remains unperturbed despite the crescendo rise of chill that signifies a heavy rain that will come. 

Crash!

He looked up from the book he is reading. A piece of glass breaking, somewhere,  is heard. Solitary peaceful reading time is hard to come by and the sudden interruption that his keen ears picked up is ruining it. Feeling much irritated, he closed the book and got up from the sagging bed. He sighed every time he looked at the bed. The mattress has a deep crater right at the middle where the heaviest part of him puts the greatest amount of force downwards. He knows he is heavy, but man it's humiliatingly embarrassing to see how much his weight affects his bed.

"Well, you make your own bed so you just have to sleep in it," he joked to himself inwardly. He blames himself for his non-existent exercise and his poorly control diet. He knows he needs to cut down his meals but hunger is something he cannot endure. Sometimes it's not even about eating when he's being hungry. He even eats when he's bored or upset. He's eating while driving as the journeys he make are boring to him. Food is the comfort he seeks more than friendship or sex. Not that he knows how sex feels like. He just imagines. 

He dared popping his head out through the door, looking outside his room for the cause of the noise. There's no one outside. No cats or stray dogs (God forbid) lurking along the corridor. The breeze slaps his face playfully and he closed his eyes and grinned. He had half his mind to just sleep outside with the blissful night chill but when he thought about the meals the mosquitoes will make out of him he cleared that thought away. He closed back the door and when to the bed to continue reading.

He opened up the book to the page he last read and there in between the pages are shards of the breaking glass. His heart skipped a beat. He was pretty darn sure there was nothing in his book. No one was with him. He lives alone all his life. He picked up one of the shards to inspect and he cut  himself on the finger. Cursing loudly, he quickly ran to the bathroom to run the water over his wound. The cut stings and the wound was deep. He grabbed his handkerchief and tried to put pressure over it but the bleeding would't stop. He felt dizzy at the sight of the blood.

The wind is getting stronger, judging by the loud bangs of the door and the shutters. A sudden gush of wind nearly unbalanced him. Perplexed, he looked up only to find his room door was wide open. Suddenly every blow of wind felt menacing and every noise indicating a threat. He heard a soft knocking on the door clearly - he knew that sound. It's the sound his room door made whenever someone is knocking on it. And he's looking at his ajar door at the moment. 

And there's no one there.