When I was just twelve years old, I had an unforgettable experience during a sleepover at my grandmother’s house. Her name was Margaret, and she had gone to pick up my sister, leaving me alone in the house for a short while.
As I prepared to take a shower, I realized I hadn’t laid out my clothes yet. So, I hurried back to my room to set everything in order. At that moment, I noticed something peculiar. My radio, which I distinctly remembered leaving on, was mysteriously turned off. Perplexed, I switched it back on and proceeded to the bathroom.
As I lathered up my hair in the shower, an unexpected noise caught my attention. It sounded like the door opening. Concerned, I called out, “Margaret, is that you?” However, there was no response. Assuming it might be her, I decided to ignore it and continue my shower.
Moments later, while applying conditioner to my hair, I had another chilling encounter. The shower curtain began to move as if someone were behind it. My heart raced as I watched in fear. Suddenly, without warning, the entire shower curtain was violently yanked open, and I felt an immense force pushing me down.
In my grandma’s shower, she had a support handle to prevent her from slipping and falling due to her age. When I was pushed down, my leg collided with that handle, resulting in a gash that sent blood flowing everywhere. I needed stitches for the wound, and to this day, I bear the scar as a permanent reminder of that terrifying incident.
The events of that night in my grandma’s house have stayed with me, a haunting memory of an unexplainable and unsettling encounter that defied rational explanation.