When I was approximately 12 years old, I used to spend weekends at my mother’s house. You see, I primarily lived with my grandma, but weekends were reserved for my mom’s place. This one particular night, an incident occurred that would forever change the way I looked at that house.
It was late, well past bedtime, and everyone else in the house was fast asleep. I had set up a makeshift bed for myself in the living room. The darkness had settled in, but the soft glow from the kitchen’s nightlight provided just enough illumination to navigate the room. That’s when it happened.
At around 3:00 am, I awoke to an eerie sensation. It felt as though someone was in the room with me, their presence almost palpable. But what sent shivers down my spine was the voice—an otherworldly whisper that seemed to come from right beside me. It was an urgent voice, commanding me to leave the house. My heart raced, and fear coursed through my veins. I didn’t dare move, staying frozen in my makeshift bed until exhaustion overcame me, and I drifted back into a restless slumber.
As I slept fitfully, I was roused once more, this time by the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the floor. Groggily, I opened my eyes and strained to see through the dimly lit room. At first, I thought it might be my step-dad, heading to the restroom as many do in the early hours. But to my growing horror, the shadowy figure wasn’t heading to the restroom; it was moving deliberately in my direction.
My voice caught in my throat, but I mustered the courage to shout my mother’s name. The instant my cry pierced the stillness, the shadow seemed to disintegrate into the darkness. Within moments, my mom burst into the living room, her eyes wide with concern.
I quickly recounted the strange events of the night, my words tumbling out in a rush. But instead of dismissing my story or attributing it to an overactive imagination, my mother’s face grew serious. She told me something that sent chills down my spine—the house was haunted.
We spent the rest of the night in uneasy slumber, our dreams haunted by the knowledge that we shared our home with something beyond the realm of the living. And as dawn’s light broke through the windows, my mother promised that we would discuss the matter further. Little did I know that this eerie encounter was only the beginning of a journey that would uncover the hidden secrets of our haunted house.