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Untitled 6
My dad moved us out to this old two storey farmhouse when I turned 5. My grandparents had a house that adjoined ours that my dad built for them. There were six of us kids, two boys and four girls. Of course, being an old farmhouse, it only actually had two and a half bedrooms. One large bedroom upstairs, which all of us girls shared, a medium sized hallway section that my brother used as a bedroom, and of course my parents had the downstairs bedroom. Our bedroom was the largest and it had a closet that was the complete length of the room with no door on it. My mother had hung a thin white cotton linen blanket in the doorway.
I was always very afraid to be in that bedroom alone - day or night, because I always felt like someone was watching me. And, of course, it certainly didn't help any when my mom decided the only way to get us to shut up and go to sleep was to tell us if we didn't be quiet the boogy man in the closet would grab us and pull us in. You know whose bed was right next to the door opening...mine, of course. I was terrified that something would reach out of the opening to grab me and pull me in. So I was extremely quiet, except for the few times I was threatening my sisters because they couldn't shut the heck up and go to sleep.
I always made it a point not to go into that particular room alone. I couldn't seem to shake the feeling that someone was always right beside me or behind me, and at times I actually thought I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. It spooked me enough to make me never be in that room alone very often.
Years had passed, and I was now about 11 or 12 years old. My uncle was staying for a few weeks to help out, so we made the enclosed porch his bedroom. Everyone was downstairs watching TV when I noticed my mom out of the corner of my eye carrying a load of clothes upstairs. (She would normally place the basket on the stairs for us to carry up) I waited for a moment, and then decided I would go talk to her.
I got up off the couch, and scanned the room; everyone was so absorbed in the show they didn't even see me get up. I walked up the stairs, noticing that the lights weren't on in the bedroom or in the hallway. At the time this should have told me something, but I didn't really give it any thought. I got to the top of the landing in the hallway, and walked through it to our dark bedroom on the left.
I thought Mom just probably wanted to scare me. Yeah, like she knew I would be coming up there. I stood in the middle of the bedroom trying to get my bearings as to where she was in the dark. I kept turning around, scanning the darkness, trying to see her before she could grab me and scare the living daylights out of me. I decided if I let her know right away that she wasn't going to frighten me, she'd turn the light on. To this day, I don't actually know why I didn't turn the light on myself when I entered the room; I guess it's like those stupid movies where we watch where the person walks into a dark basement after hearing a noise, knowing full well that they won't be seeing the light of day.
As I stood in the dark, I could feel her close by. I could just barely make out a shape in the pitch blackness, turning as quickly as I could, but never quite catching her. "Mom, you're not scaring me - I know you're up here, I saw you come up the stairs," I told her as I tried to mask the fear in my voice. If she had grabbed me then, I probably would have wet my pants. "Mom, if you think you're scaring me, you're not." I repeated. "Just come out. I am not afraid."
Behind me, I heard a low, almost growling sound. It wasn't like the sound a dog would make; it was just different. "Mother, I know it's you. Just come out." There was a short silence, and then the sound began again. I kept turning, trying to see her shadow, and at times in the dark I thought I had, but it would disappear. The low growling stopped and started, and I could never figure out in what direction she was standing in. I thought she must have been quietly circling around me, so I couldn't detect where she was. "MOM! Once and for all, you are NOT scaring me! I KNOW it's you!"
Silence again for a minute. And then I heard something so terrifying, I thought I would die. I heard my grandmother talking to MOM downstairs. But, how could that be, when Mom was up here with me, trying to scare me? S***, and scaring me she was, too. I was about to freak, but my petrified mind was telling me that if whatever was in the room with me knew that I was afraid, I wouldn't get to leave alive.
I slowly walked towards the hallway so I could get to the stairs before whoever was up there with me decided I wouldn't be leaving I think that the hardest thing I ever had to do was to make my feet move as casually as I could. I managed to get to the doorway in the hallway, and as soon as I saw the stairs, I made a run for it. I actually don't think my feet hit the stairs; I KNOW they missed the last three steps, because I fell flat on my chest in front of my Dad's chair. "What the hell are you doing?" Dad yelled. I think that I really scared him. Hell, get in line!
I jumped to my feet and scanned the room. Everyone was there, except for Mom and Grandma; they were talking in the kitchen. That was totally impossible. I knew no one had made it down those stairs before me, unless they were beamed down. I ran into the kitchen and asked Mom how long she had been downstairs after she had taken the clothes upstairs.
She said, "What clothes? Grandma and I have been in the kitchen cooking...
-Unsigned-
