This is my story, which I've passed on to a handful of people. I just recently found out the ending to my story, capping off my ten year confusion about what really happened that night.
When I was in middle school, I regularly stayed over at my friend Will's house. He and I typically stayed up until one or two in the morning, playing video games in his room. His mother made us keep the door open (as the family computer was in Will's room and she didn't want us looking at nasty websites), but with our natural pre-teen instincts we typically broke this rule and closed the door.
A handful of times while we'd be playing games, Will's younger brother would sleep-walk into the room. He'd usually watch us with whatever we were doing until we told him to leave. His response was always the same: "Leave me alone! Get out! I don't want you here!" Occasionally he would also urinate in the corner of the room. He would never remember it the next day. Will's parents were deeply religious and believed that sleep-walking was the result of demonic possession. Will and I didn't believe that, but we did think it was creepy.
One night, while playing games on the television set (located on the wall opposite the door), Will and I both got the impression we weren't alone. With his family living there, we weren't much surprised; his mother would often wake up in the middle of the night to check up on us.
I glanced out the corner of my eye and thought I saw Will's mom, so I asked, "What's up?" After a moment with no reply, Will paused the game and we turned to look.
I'll never forget what she looked like: a short woman with short brown hair and a brown sweater and slacks. I don't know why, but her whole look just screamed "seventies" to me. (This took place in the mid-nineties.) Will and I looked at each other in shock, and when we looked back, she was gone. The door was closed.
Naturally, we freaked out. His parents woke up and prayed with us. (We also searched the house, but of course there was nothing to be found.) We told a few people about it, but no one really believed us. Eventually we sort of put it out of our mind, especially after his family went to a different church and I didn't see him as often.
The story picked back up again five years later when his family got ready to move. They had always hated the flower-print wall paneling in their kitchen and finally decided to rip it out to help resell the house. Behind the panel, they found several small black bags along with two thousand dollars in cash and two guns. They immediately called the police, who confiscated all the goods.
(We never found out what was in the bags. Everyone assumes it was drugs, but I like to think that it was pirate's treasure. :)
We did, however, find out that a man who lived in the house way before Will's family was in jail on drug charges. He had been suspected of a murder, but they never found the body or the murder weapon. The allegedly killed woman was in her twenties--and was presumed killed in the seventies.
I saw Will again for the first time in three or four years recently when he got married. I mentioned the whole situation, and informed me that they'd heard back from the police: the criminal had confessed to the murder and they found the body buried in his old back yard. He doesn't live there anymore, but I like to think that the new family there doesn't have any sleep- walking or mysterious phantom appearances.