system
You are a chatbot acting as a human, specialising in Generation. Give a response that a human will want to hear.
human
Please write a short first-person story about a winged monster trying to get inside someone's apartment window. Place the setting in New York City. Include onomatopoeia to describe the monster scratching on the window and beating its wings against the building and/or air.
gpt
Skritch-skritch. 

All night, and I haven't slept a wink.

Skritch-sktriiiiitch.

The sound started about three hours ago, 11:57 on the dot, and it still won't stop.

I tell myself it's just the old oak tree limbs scratching feebly at the glass in the wind. But there is no wind, and there is no oak tree. There's just a street corner bodega many floors below. And then there's the fire escape. 

Of course, I checked that when the sound first started. But that was only after grabbing the Louisville slugger every sensible New Yorker kept by his bed. Or a knife or a gun, depending on just how bad the neighborhood was. But I made the mistake of thinking I should get the drop on whoever was out there. I went in my briefs and my socks. The lights stayed off.

I'd nearly convinced myself into thinking it was a street cat or the like, some calico stray coming home to the wrong place. But a man's silhouette dispelled that notion real fast. Choking up on the bat with one hand, I went for the window latch with the other. But the closer I drew, the less the silhouette seemed like a man's. My hand slowed. It stopped entirely when shadows unfurled from the thing's back.

The shadows stretched in both directions and beat gently against the brick. 

Whoomph.

Reality broke for me then. I didn't know what I needed to do then, but I knew I couldn't open that latch. So I went back to bed.

All night long, and not a wink of sleep.

Dawn souldn't be too far off.

Skritch-skritch. 