As long as I can remember, I have found both solace and fear in the dark. I have also seen, felt, and heard things most people either don't notice or don't sense. Whatever the case, my experiences, most witnessed solely by myself, stretch a lifetime.

When I was three, my family moved into a brand new house that we built and designed ourselves. Most of my experiences and memories stem from my life in that house, and my parents still live in it today.

I remember I have always been afraid of the stairway. My door, built on a slant that opens to face the stairs, has never been closed at night while I slept in my room. I have always felt that I needed to be able to see those stairs. From by bed, I could usually see the top 4 or 5 stairs and anyone who came up those stairs was seen and heard by me as I am a very light sleeper and always have been.

With that background, I must say here that there are many presences in our home. I am certain that my aunt has followed me personally to wherever I move as she has always been my protector. Her energy is a constant in my home. My grandfather helped build the house and expended a lot of energy there, so I sense him a lot also. However, there is one presence that appeared when I was about six years old that I do not recognize and cannot explain. This is the story of the Shadow Man.

At about that time, rarely able to sleep more than a few hours at a time (a habit that has plagued me since), I would lay awake in my bed and simply stare at the hallway. My cat, my best friend for sixteen years, began to sleep in the threshold of my door and face outward as if to watch the stairs. The first night, I heard the unmistakable creaking of the third or fourth riser from the bottom as if someone was coming up. I saw nothing, and, being very young, I was terrified, but, with the absence of any event, I fell asleep. The second time, I looked at my view of the stairs when my cat jumped suddenly up on my bed with his tail one big, poofy ball of fur (he was Siamese and not prone to puffiness) and saw a man's shadow standing on what must have been the seventh stair or so from the top. I have to guess at this, but it looked as it would if an average sized male stood there, as you would see the stair cut off your view of his legs at the shin.

I stared at that spot all night, wide awake, terrified and unable to grasp the courage to turn on my light. Over the years, the Shadow Man's presence made me uneasy, but I never felt threatened. I think I saw the Shadow Man at least once or twice a year from then on.

He never seemed to move until my second year of college when my life-long companion (you guessed it, my cat) began to suffer from the effects of old age. It seemed that every time I went home that year, I saw the Shadow Man, and he seemed to be moving up, one stair at a time. I felt apprehensive but not frightened - until my cat passed on.

One weekend, my parents had asked me to come home for the weekend to take care of our two dogs while they were away. I was only to stay there for one night, and my father would be home in the early afternoon the next day. It wasn't as if I had never been left home alone before, but it was one of the last times I could stand it.

I had gone to my room to read before I went to sleep, and I took my mom's Yorkshire Terrier with me. I turned off my lamp and began to settle in with the dog sleeping on my belly. About fifteen minutes later, she suddenly lifted her head to look through my door and began to shake and growl. I looked in the same direction and saw nothing. My other dog, a very vocal collie downstairs, didn't utter a sound. I turned on the light, the Yorkie jumped off the bed and ran to the hallway, gave it a sniff, and jumped back up. All was fine until a few minutes later when we repeated the entire episode, again the same spot. We went through the routine a few more times, the other dog downstairs seemingly fast asleep and unaware, until turning on the lights no longer worked. This time, she ran to the spot in front of the stairs with lights blazing and barked and growled and shook. Those who have dogs know the sound of a frightened and threatened dog. She made that sound that night.

Finally, I turned off the light to see if I could calm her down, and I looked at the top of the stairs. Right where the dog kept looking and running to, the Shadow Man stood. Darker than the shadows, but lighter than the dark. This is the first time I have felt terror. With no cat to guard my way, the Shadow Man had come.

I spent the few remaining hours until daylight with every light in the house on. Finally, scared and alone, I took off at dawn to go back to school. During the entire three hour drive, I went over the events of the night over and over again. I drove directly to my boyfriend's fraternity house where he woke up and answered his door to a shaking and quite scared me. Unaccustomed to seeing me this way, he prodded me into telling him this story. After years have passed, I now tell it to you.

Since that night, I have never spent another night alone in that house. What could the Shadow Man want? Who could he be?