Middle of the night

The house stands silent and still, bathed in the soft, silver glow of the moonlight that filters through the windows. It's eerily quiet, maybe because it's haunted, you laugh to yourself. The usual hum of activity has been replaced by a profound stillness that speaks of rest and tranquility. The house, with its creaks and whispers, seems to breathe in harmony with the night, a sentinel guarding the dreams of its inhabitants. From everyone except you.