Ever since I was a child I was interested in ghosts and witches etc. It wasn't until my family moved out of the city that I really started to believe ghosts were real.
When we first moved into our present house I didn't have a bedroom at all, so I slept in a small cottage just outside the main part of our house. Within a few months my mother pulled me aside one afternoon and told me that she felt that there was something watching her when she was alone. I didn't think too much of it untill much later.
My parents had an addition built to the main part of the house so I had an actual bedroom and my mom had the dining room she always wanted. I had moved into my new room January 1st and right away I had the feeling I wasn't alone at night. Every once and a while I would feel something crawl into bed with me but there was nothing there.
A year later I had gotten in the terrible habit of shutting off my alarm clock about a half an hour before it rang. This alarm clock sat on a night stand between the head of my daybed and my bedroom window leaving a small space so I could open and shut my shades easily.
One morning I lifted my head from my pillow to find my alarm so I could shut it off and I got the fright of my life. A man stood in that small space right over my bed. On his face was plastered a huge maniacal grin, his eyes were red and tearing into me. I got so scared I pulled the covers over my head and didn't get up until my mom came to get me.
A short time later I was taking a shower and all of a sudden the water got really really cold. I was looking at the tile in front of me and the same red eyes I saw in my bedroom started comming out toward me. Frightened out of my wits I jumped right out of the shower and ran to my parent's room. I still believe that there is something in my home, but I know for sure it's not alive.