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.
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