A little under a year ago I moved into this old style house by a highway. At first I loved the tight, cozy feeling of the place and didn't mind the draft that came under the doors. But after some time, I found the drafts make moaning noises more than peaceful whistles, the floorboards creak an irritating, and rather unnerving sound, and the cozy little walls to be suffocating.
I first noticed the "Presence" after a few nights in my room, and eventually began to grow accustomed to the ever- constant feeling of being watched in certain rooms of the house. When first moving in, I heard some stories about a family who lived here, or more about two family members who lived AND died here. A Grandmother and her Grandson. Apparently, the grandson was left in the bathtub in the hall bathroom alone too long and drowned,(His bathroom is now My bathroom) and the Grandmother's place of death hasn't been specified but her bedroom is the one at the end of the hall with the bathroom in it. (My bedroom. O Joy!!)
I have explained that I feel that I am watched throughout the house, always feeling someone there keeping a close eye on me. But my most recent bathroom scare came about three months ago.
I had just gotten back from a late movie with some friends and needed to take a bath to calm down enough to sleep. The bathroom is your basic bath and toilet, but there is one very important thing about it that shouldn't be ignored. When you are in it, you should never, EVER close your eyes for very long. (I learned this the hard way through this experience.) I ran the water as hot as possible, letting the steam fog up the mirror before turning it off, and laid down in the steaming water. Getting comfortable and relaxed, I began to feel the familiar need to look over my shoulder. I obliged the need and found nothing there for the thousandth time. I had an urge to look over my other shoulder, and then the other, above me, at my feet... until I finally decided that I would just ignore it. After all, nothing ever happened before, why now? Almost immediately I felt a chill, even though my water was scalding me I was shivering. I wanted out, but simply scolded myself for being such a chicken every time I got a little scared. I closed my eyes. In my minds eye I saw a boy sit up out of the water at my feet, his eyes following me as he moved up, watching me lay there. I sprang up and sloshed the water over the rim of the basin staring wildly at my feet at the other end. I saw no boy, but I could feel him watching me, as though we were staring each other down. I decided bath time was over and rushed out of the bathroom without draining the tub until some sunlight came through the dark red stained glass window by the toilet the next morning.
The next little problem with the home is both a repetitive thing and a one timer thus far. The repetitive problem is that whenever I enter my bedroom something always falls. It can be anything, a picture off the wall, make-up will roll off my vanity, my closet door will shudder when something from the many piles a top it's shelves takes a dive, but ALWAYS something. Also, my bed is a swinging one. Its a laying-swinging patio bench with a mattress on top so that I can rock when I sleep. (I love swings and swing every night for an hour in my backyard on our swing set. Snow, rain, and sleet never stop me.) It swings very gently at all times, but is never moving enough that you notice without watching it for a second or two. I just got home, had just opened my door and the bed was swaying rapidly from side to side as though someone had just pushed it, though my door had been locked, I just saw the cat outside, and no one had been home since 6:00 that morning.
Now for the worst of it, or so I think because this is what frightened me the most of everything I endured.
I am never alone in my bedroom, I can say that much, there is always someone in the room watching. But actual proof besides the HURRY! ROLL OVER! feel when I sleep, took place just last month at 3:00 in the morning. I had my cat curled up beside me in the crook of my arm, he moved suddenly and then moved away from me. I'm not sure where he went during that time, I was too groggy to notice, but he had the right idea. Move! I thought he wanted out to go to the bathroom, so looking at the clock and grunting, I rolled over to look at his cat dish by the end of my bed. I didn't see a cat dish there. It was quick and more shocked than frightened me at the time, but I saw a pair of eyes looking over my blankets by my left arm. They weren't the cats eyes, his would glow and reflect moonlight at that hour, these eyes were big, tiny pupils with enormous whites flashing when my bed swung past, the face pale with its nose hung over the beds edge. I flipped over to look at my clock. My heart was pounding and a cold sweat broke over me. I covered myself up to my chin with the heavy blankets, making myself hot and uncomfortable, but too scared to move in fear that It would grab me. I heard the floorboards creak by my bed where my head was laying exposed, I still couldn't move. All night long the boards creaked in my room and things fell in my closet making the door pound. I didn't sleep the rest of the night, and helped to comfort my cat when he came whizzing back up into my arms. Neither of us made a sound and the Cat didn't want to get off the bed until the sun came up.
Thanks for reading, it helps to vent a bit. =)