I actually have a very short story and a not so short story. After reading about a few experiences some people have had with a dark shadow figure, it brought back a dream that I had when I was about 6-7 years old.
At least I always thought of it as a dream.
Growing up my only sister and I had our own rooms they were separated by the bathroom and a hallway. The hallway light was always left on at night because 1.) I was afraid of the dark and 2.) so you could see your way to the bathroom.
One night I woke up looked over by the hallway and saw a silhouette of a man with hat on and a large knife in his hand. I screamed so loud that both my parents and my sister came running. But the man was gone. My parents just said it was a bad dream and to just go back to sleep which I didn't. Before my sister moved out and I moved into her old room, I never got through a night without a nightmare, the feeling of being watched and the room was always cold.
My other experience started back in 1997. My husband and I just moved into a great garage apartment in Houston, TX. Very spacious, hardwood floors, big kitchen and bathroom the one bedroom was huge, windows all around, plus you had to go through a locked front door, walk up a flight of stairs and another locked door to get inside, made it very safe. The fact that we only paid $300.00 a month and my husbands friend Dave (not his real name) owned the house it was connected to made it even more attractive.
Before we moved in Dave told us that about 6 months ago Rick the previous tenant had committed suicide in the bedroom, with a shotgun in the mouth. This did not effect us one bit.
So we moved in one morning. There was an old beat-up desk that Rick had left behind. For some strange reason I told my husband not to get rid of it. He said fine and that we needed a computer desk anyway. That evening my husband had to leave for a business trip which left me, to unpack and set-up-house, not to mention spending the 1st night in a new place alone with my two cats to keep me company. Also my husband reminded me that Dave and his wife live just a few feet away.
The kitchen had a big window over the kitchen sink. The phone range about 11pm, it was my husband saying the flight was fine and he was at the hotel which I could tell by the "caller I.D.", while we were talking I put 4 decorative glass bottles on the window seal, and put some dishes away. We said our "I love You's" and hung up. I plopped on the couch turned on the TV and fell asleep with my cats curled by me. I would wake up hearing creaking on the hardwood floors, thinking it was the cats I just went back to sleep. I woke up in the morning with sun just streaming through the windows. (no doom and gloom here) Walked in the kitchen to feed the cats and looked down and saw those glass bottles on the floor. All sitting up, in a row, on the floor. The little hairs on the back of my neck stood up and got a chill.
I got the thought of Rick in my head, but dismissed it, thinking that I hadn't put them on the window after all. I put them back and went on my with my day. No feelings of being watched, but not being alone either. The day went fine, except that I noticed on certain spots of the floor the cats would jump over or walk around them. There again I didn't think anything of it, my cats were used to walking on carpet all there lives (their spoiled rotten) and the hardwood floor was a new feeling to their paws.
I would wake up in the middle of the night hearing the floors creak, but when I looked on the bed and both cats were curled up together it spooked me. I went back to sleep. In the morning I would find my favorite ring a scarabe, on the floor in the livingroom. Which prompted me to ask Dave about Rick, he said Rick was very depressed and his only sister tried to help him, but finally took his life.
It made me sad to think that someone was so depressed to end their life. I walked in the apartment and just began talking to Rick like he was a friend of mine over for a visit.
My scarabe ring would still be in the livingroom in the mornings, the cats would still jump over spots on the floor, they would purr and look like someone was petting them, stare at a blank wall or try to catch something scurrying across the floor when nothing was there and with my husband going on trips very frequently I never felt alone.
Rick was a good friend.
We lived there 3 years before we moved to Austin. I hope who ever lives in that apartment now has a cat or dog that Rick can play with, he is a nice guy that just wants a friend.
Sorry for the length.
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