It has been nearly nine months since this event occurred, but I know that it will always and forever be burned into my memory because there are just some things that you can never forget.
About a year ago, after putting up with a lot of crap from my best friend (who I shared my house with) I decided that it was time for her to move out. She didn’t cause me any trouble in moving really, and in fact I was elated that she was going. On the day that she moved out, I had my younger sister, Andrea move in with me. She was only sixteen at that time, but she had a full time job and wanted to live closer to her work, as our parents live a good extra 20 minutes away. We’d always gotten along really well, so I was happy to have her on a permanent basis.
Now, I’d always known that Andrea was a very sensitive girl. In fact, she’s always been sensitive to the point of getting very upset for no apparent reason.
It was about three months after she first moved in to the house that she told me that there was something not quite right about the house. At this point I should specify the layout of the house.
We have two levels in the house. The downstairs is completely tiled and it has a very high ceiling, making it about eleven degrees cooler in the Summer than the upstairs. As you come in the front door downstairs, you directly face the stairs going up – the stairs have a large, open space underneath them, and that’s where we keep the fish tank. To the left of the stairs is a very large room, which is a combined lounge room and dining room. On the wall next to the front door (on the left) is a huge bay window, which looks out at the small garden out front and to the house across the way. If you move through the Lounge room and Dining room, you see an alcove on the right and directly in front of you is a very short hallway. On the left is the large doorway into the kitchen, on the right, directly opposite of the Kitchen doorway is the laundry (which is concealed by 4 swinging partitioned doors) and a large closet. If you continue to the end of the short hallway, you reach the back door that opens into the back yard.
The upstairs is fairly large as well. It’s all carpeted except in the bathroom, which is directly in front of the stairs and is over the laundry. Andrea’s room is smaller than mine and it sits above the kitchen and the short hallway, while my room, the master bedroom, takes up the space above the big lounge room and dining room. There is also a large linen closet situated between our rooms.
Now at this part of the story, I can only say what Andrea told me. What happened, according to her, was that she awoke on the night in question (I believe it was about late January at the time – Summer here in Australia) and felt very cold. Now, I hate to contradict Andrea at this point, but we live in Queensland and the tropical Summers here often reach temperatures upward of 45 degrees C (about 113 degrees F) and at night the temperature rarely falls below 30 degrees C (about 86 degrees F).
So, being awake and cold, she fetched an extra blanket from the upstairs linen closet and then decided to go downstairs to get a drink. She isn’t sure exactly why, but she said that she was a bit frightened to go downstairs by herself, so she checked to see if perhaps I was awake. She said that she went over to my bed but that she could see that I was sound asleep (I talk in my sleep so that’s a dead give-a- way). She also noticed that it was very hot in my bedroom, as it should have been. So she left me there, turned on all the lights upstairs, but my room light, switched on the light in the stairwell and went downstairs.
Now here is where her story gets a bit sketchy. She told me that she was very frightened but couldn’t figure out why. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she turned on the lounge room lights, which are next to the front door and started towards the kitchen when she saw something moving near the kitchen doorway. She didn’t stick around to see what it was, she immediately turned the lounge room light off and ran upstairs. This is the part where I come in. She ran into my room and threw herself into my bed, crying, which of course woke me up. She said that she’d seen something moving downstairs. So I went downstairs and checked but everything was as it should be. The fish were moving about, but that couldn’t have been what she saw, they’re too far away from the kitchen and on the opposite wall. So I got her a glass of water, took it back upstairs and she begged me to let her sleep in my bed. I agreed as I felt that she was too shaken up and frightened to have to spend the night alone in her room. Besides, I have a king sized bed so there was plenty of room.
Three nights later, once again, very late, Andrea came into my room and woke me up. She wanted me to go downstairs with her to get a drink. So, I obliged, turned on the light above the stairwell and we went down the stairs together, me in front and her behind. When I turned on the lounge room light, noting was out of the ordinary, and Andrea started walking to the kitchen ahead of me. But then she froze and reached back to grab my arm, very tightly.
It’s difficult to comprehensively describe what we saw. There were weird lights surrounding the hallway, which we had never seen before. They didn't really seem to have a source and yet there they were. They weren't blindingly bright - we could see easily - but on the other hand, they should not have been there. And then, out of the kitchen doorway, stepped a boy. He was about thirteen years old, Samoan in decent (there are a lot of Samoans in my area) and looked completely solid and also, he looked quite saddened. If it wasn’t for the next few seconds and the weird lights, I would have said that he’d broken in somehow, a local youth being a pain. When the boy stepped into the hallway however, he looked directly at us, and stared for at least fifteen seconds. It seemed longer because my heart was racing and I was having trouble catching my breath. And then, without saying anything at all, he turned towards the back door, which was still closed, and walked directly through it. The lights hung around for about a half second and then simply died away.
Andrea and I stood there for a long time, not moving, afraid and shaking quite badly. I remember that I had large marks on my arms for a couple of days where Andrea’s nails had dug into my flesh.
Eventually I pulled her arm and we went back upstairs into my bedroom and lay on the bed in silence for a long time thinking about what we saw. Later we discussed it in great detail. The thing is, our back door is actually two back doors. The first door, from the inside is made of solid wood. The second door is made from very heavy metal, which I always keep padlocked after sundown, without fail. So how did this boy go through the two closed doors?
I still don’t know, but whenever I tell other people the story, they always tell me that it gives them a really bad chill and I have to admit that even after all this time, it still raises the hair on the back of my neck when I think about it at night.
Anyway, I still live in that house, although I now live there on my own. Andrea moved out about a month ago because she got a new job in a town further away. I haven’t experienced anything since then, and I don’t really expect to. The thought of it is still too scary.