I think there might be a ghost in my house. I’ve only ever seen it once, but its presence—or my imagining its presence—has me feeling constantly uneasy and on-edge in my own home. The sighting happened quite a few years ago, and normally I wouldn’t even think to bring this up, but there’s been a recent development in the situation that’s made me deeply unsettled. Just a heads up, this is a complicated story. I’ve tried to keep this as concise as possible, but I think this much writing is necessary for a full understanding of the situation.
Before I start, let me set the scene to give you a better idea of what was going on; my sister’s room has a really creepy vibe—so much so that her superstitious high-school friend literally REFUSED to ever go in there. It’s really cold and drafty all year round due to its position right above the unheated garage, and it has two crawlspaces along the wall and in the closet (not sure what these are for, they are just small, unlit, wooden areas that were here when we moved in). Also, it’s only accessible by a long, narrow, dimly lit hallway that branches off from the main hall of the 2nd floor, which leads to my room from the top of the stairs. It’s worth noting that my sister NEVER leaves any doors open as she’s very OCD and obsessed with privacy and boundaries. Anyway, on to my story:
My “paranormal” experience occurred when I was around 7 or 8. I was leaving my room to go downstairs late one night when I saw something vaguely in my periphery. I turned to see what looked like a short, hunched over old woman with dark grey skin and shaggy black hair facing away from me, standing down the hall in front of my sister’s door. I can’t for the life of me remember what she was wearing, but I still have a vivid mental image of the sight of the back of her head. I was frozen like a deer in the headlights with something that wasn’t exactly fear—I just felt a deep, innate wrongness with the situation. My brain was screaming that this thing wasn’t supposed to be there and that I shouldn’t be seeing this. I just stood there hoping it wouldn’t turn around and notice me. After staring at this thing for a few seconds, I came to my senses and quickly snuck back into my room. I didn’t know what this thing was, but I knew that I didn’t want it knowing I had seen it. I spent the next hour or so hiding under my covers until I fell asleep.
My parents wrote this incident off as the product of an overactive imagination, and my mother assured me that what I thought I saw was impossible. Monsters aren’t real. Being a child, I quickly moved on and forgot about the incident for a few years, and when I remembered, I figured my parents were right. As I was older, I had a better frame of reference as to what is and isn’t possible, and the only logical explanation I could think of was that I had imagined the incident. The only part that has made this story stick with me since then is that the ghost was facing away from me, and didn’t even notice me. This always struck me as odd, because pretty much every “ghost” story I’ve ever heard involves someone interacting with the ghost or being interacted with in some way. I didn’t understand why such a non-confrontational, impersonal encounter creeped me out so much. But even still, this seems like a pretty standard childhood fantasy, right? Hang in there, because this is where it gets weird.
My sister was visiting from college two weeks ago, and on the night she left we reminisced about her creepy old room on the way to the airport. I remembered this story with an uncomfortable smile, and shared it with her as a testament to her room’s spook factor. She looked seriously disturbed for a second before demanding to know if I was fucking with her. I assured her that I was, in fact, not fucking with her, and asked her what was wrong. I shit you not, this is the story she relayed to me, unembellished and straight from the horse’s mouth. I’ve recounted her tale as faithfully as my memory allows. It takes place 3 to 4 years after mine, during her sophomore year of high school.
She woke up one night feeling uncomfortably cold (even for her room), so she rolled over to grab an extra blanket. However, she froze in place when she saw that something was slowly making its way through her open doorway. She described to me as much of the creature’s appearance as she remembered—a short, “troll-looking” old woman with a bizarrely long and narrow face, sunken eyes which reflected light like an animal’s, a long, hooked nose, and dark, cadaverous skin. When it made eye contact with her and (presumably) noticed she was awake, it stood stock still for a while before slowly backing out of the room until it was out of sight. My sister was understandably freaked the fuck out, and just lay in bed pretending to be asleep with her eyes kept a bit open, looking for any sign of this thing coming back. Eventually she must have drifted off to sleep. When she woke up the next morning, she didn’t really think anything of it. Being a staunchly skeptical and logical person, she decided that it must’ve been a vivid nightmare, albeit a convincing one, and opted not to tell anyone about it.
This conversation happened just a couple weeks ago, and I haven’t had much time to think about it. The logical part of my brain keeps telling me that I’m being silly, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something to this. I know it must sound like I’m blowing this way out of proportion, or that my sister is fucking with me, but I can’t get the thought of that thing out of my head. It just makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I mean, my sister described the EXACT SAME ghost, only from a different perspective, when I had barely given her any details to go off of when I told her about my experience. I only ever “saw” it from the back, so I can’t confirm the facial similarities, but there was something about the way she described it… For the first time since I saw that thing standing outside my sister’s room, I felt that distinctive wrongness, so strongly that I felt like that little kid all over again… Besides, our sightings occurred in the exact same spot. There’s just too much weirdness for me to write this off. The part that really gets me, though, is that when I saw it, it was standing right in front of her door, like it was about to go in…
I really wish I was making this shit up.
Remember, these stories take place several years apart, so if our “paranormal” experiences really did occur, the implication is really fucking disturbing. I mean, this thing went into my sister’s room late at night with an unknown purpose on (at least) several occasions over the course of (at least) a few years.
I’m getting chills just writing about it, since I still live in the house. Besides, I’m sure it’s just a combination of paranoia and a bad memory, but on some mornings since my sister’s visit I’ve woken up with my door wide open when I could’ve sworn I’d made sure to close it the night before… I’ve thought about setting up a camera in my sister’s room overnight, or calling a fucking exorcist or something, but honestly, at the moment I’m way too terrified and embarrassed to do anything like that. Besides, I’ve begun to think that maybe I should just live and let live, since if there is a “ghost” in my house, it doesn’t seem like it’s ever done anything to intentionally scare/harm anyone. Well, there’s that and the fact that I really don’t want to piss this thing off.
Sent to us by anonymous from usa