Home Alone

Overall, I was a pretty good kid. My parents would sometimes go away for the weekend and leave me alone when I was old enough to fend for myself (neighbors and family would check up on me so I was really just in the house alone, but looked after).
"Scary" movies would be aired during October and I would usually watch them. They really didn't frighten me too much at that point in my life. I think knowing what was really in the dark, lurking, gave me something to be truly frightened of.
If I let my imagination get the better of me I could imagine that the house, settling, was even more creaky and groany than usual. It was kind of fun to let myself get scared, thinking I might not be alone the house after all?
On one such night, I was alone and watching something scary on TV. Suddenly, there was a loud thump from upstairs. In a panic, I thought I heard voices as well. My dog suddenly sat up as well, ears perked. That was not a good sign. I shut the TV off and listened. The air conditioner shaft thumped loudly at that moment. Then silence. My dog half-barked once, then ran to the bottom of the stairs. He fussed a bit and ran around the hallway, still downstairs, then wanted to go outside. Which sounded like a superb idea at the time.
We went out and I looked at all the upstairs windows, from the safety of the ground floor. All the windows and screens were closed and in place. If someone(s) had broken in, they did a great job of putting everything back in place.
Mustering courage, wielding a baseball bat, and taking my cocker spaniel with me, I inspected every square foot in the house. Nothing. I also didn't notice anything that had fallen over that could have made the loud thump I had heard earlier. Nothing seemed out of place. Getting to sleep that night was difficult.