Waking up in the middle of the night to hear a low and slightly muffled series being shown on tv has this nostalgic effect on people my age. Maybe it was a safe space when it came to our troubled childhoods. Someone told me that they found it comforting because it meant that they wouldn’t be able to hear their parents fighting in the other room. Another mentioned that she looked for reality shows just to pretend that she wasn’t home alone. I found solace within comedy. Having a good laugh before sleeping is always a good thing. I guess I figured it out at a young age. No matter what kind of day I was having I always looked forward to ending it with a good sitcom or sketch comedy. Every time I listen to the genre it brings me back to those “good old days”. But it also brings me to one night in particular. One night where I didn’t feel safe to the point where not even comedy would cheer me up.
There was an urban legend being talked about at school that really freaked me out as a kid. The legend of Bloody Mary. At first, I didn’t know what to believe. I mean I was riding the school bus with friends and playing with Legos at that age, not thinking about an afterlife. When I first heard of it, I did what any other normal kid would’ve done and simply brushed it off. For a while, I paid no mind to it but, things started to get weird. Sometimes I would hear a voice call my name from the bathroom. It sounded like my brother even though he’d be in the living room. I would hear my mother’s voice come from my parent’s room when I knew for a fact that she wasn’t home. Lights would turn on by themselves and my radio would shut off mid shower. There were even times that I felt cold spots throughout the apartment. I was genuinely scared and couldn’t be home alone. The urban legend says that the ghost resides within mirrors. So, I was too terrified to look into one. I had asked my brother if he had seen anything weird. He said that sometimes the lights would turn on and off by themselves, but nothing else. I began to wonder if this Bloody Mary legend was real and chose me because I didn’t want to believe.
There’s this specific memory that comes to mind when I think of those days. In my childhood bathroom, you would be able to see your reflection from the three-panel mirror facing the clear shower doors. At the time, I was in a phase where all that I wanted to listen to was rock. Anything from Linkin Park to System of a Down. I remember blasting 106.7 Rock FM and hopping in the shower. I was just about finished when I heard my mom call for me. It caught my attention, so I called back. Then, the radio turned off abruptly and the lights flickered at the same time. I was confused for a second until my mom called again. “Hold on, I’ll be out soon!” I responded. I finished my shower and the lights in the bathroom started to dim a bit. They weren’t supposed to do that. I looked up hesitantly and out of my peripheral vision, I saw my reflection. I turned to look and the person in the mirror didn’t move a muscle. I watched him (me) stare at the ceiling. The lights then shut off. I grabbed my towel and ran out of that bathroom as fast as I could. I headed straight to my room and slammed the door behind me. All I could think was, “It’s her, isn’t it? She’s here to get me.” About thirty long minutes passed when I built the courage to exit my room. I went to the kitchen and asked my dad about my mom calling me. Dad told me that she wasn’t home. She left right as I was getting in the shower. He said he was surprised that I didn’t hear the door close on her way out. “Well, did you guys call me when I was in there?”, I asked. “Uhh, no? Your brother’s asleep in our room right now and I didn’t call you.”, he said with a confused look.
A couple of months went by without any activity. I was able to move about my place freely without too much fear of the paranormal. I was still very hesitant on looking at my reflection though. I was scared that maybe the person in the mirror would be some version of me in another dimension or something worse. I could end up meeting HER. We put up a shower curtain in my bathroom. If given the opportunity, I would use my parent’s bathroom instead. They’re mirror there wasn’t facing you as you stepped out the shower. The longer this went on, the more normal everything became. It seemed like everything that happened was just a bad dream.
One night, I woke up to the sound of my comedy playing on the television. I watched the show, George Lopez on Nick at Nite for a couple of minutes until I had to use the bathroom. I was walking down the hallway when I heard what sounded like silverware in the kitchen. I thought nothing of it and proceeded with my business. As I came out, I heard the same noise. I looked towards the living room and noticed that I couldn’t see anything. Usually at night, you can still see because the streetlights would bleed through the blinds. But this time it was pitch black. I saw nothing but these two little red lights. I kept staring and trying to make out what they were as they got closer. They weren’t really lights. But instead, they had a glow. Subtle, red, glowing, spherical “things” just hovering in my living room. The more I looked at them, the more they started to look like eyes. These eyes were staring right back at me. The temperature started to drop as I heard footsteps slowly coming towards me. I panicked and ran to my room. It sounded as though someone chased after me. I locked the door behind me and hid under my covers. I then heard a knock and the doorknob started to shake violently. This continued for about two minutes when I yelled, “Stop!” Then, there was silence.
The tv was muted, my brother wasn’t snoring, and the intruder stopped trying to get in. I didn’t sleep the entire night and watched episodes of the series, wondering if there was something on the other side of the door. I couldn’t bring myself to that “happy place” that shows like this would take me to. I watched the sun come up that morning. I told my parents about everything. They thought I was joking or that I had a bad dream. But, this was real. After that night, the door was unable to lock. As if someone had broken the lock by force. Was this a message from her or was there a person in my home that night? This is only one of the many things that happened while I lived in that apartment all those years ago.