Almost a year ago I moved into this new apartment. It was my first time living on my own, so I was equally as nervous and excited to be out of my parent’s house. I’ve really been enjoying where I live, as its about 45 minutes away from my parents so it’s just far enough to not be isolated, but its also just far enough that they can’t pop by for a surprise visit.
I have a dog now, too! Which has been such a great part of living alone, is that I can have my own dog. Jessie is a black and white Border Collie and I just love her to death. Because of her, I’ve had to be more active then what my old lifestyle was of sitting alone doing nothing.
Now the area I live in isn’t… perfect. There are definitely some sketchy people around every so often, but for the most part, I feel safe enough walking with my dog somewhat late at night as a young woman. Since my apartment is on the second floor, I always have to take Jessie out to do her business, so I don’t mind going on evening strolls for a bit while she goes.
It was on these late night bathroom trips that I started noticing strange things appearing around the front of my apartment building.
The first thing I noticed was a single child’s sandal.
The apartment had lots of children in it, so it wasn’t entirely unheard of for one to leave it there. The only problem is that I had taken Jessie out around 9 PM, and this was at almost midnight. So why would a little kid leave their shoe somewhere so late? Only now can I look back at this and think it was strange. At the time, it was just something I passed and barely considered.
Then there was the toilet.
This is the one that made me stop and wonder if I was actually seeing a full toilet on the grass near the sidewalk or if it was my imagination. It looked brand new, like someone had taken it fresh out of a box. There was no sign on it saying “Free” or anything of the sort. It was just there.
Jessie sniffed it a little, but then kept going. I’m guessing it just wasn’t that interesting to her. I took a picture of it, sent it to a friend to make them laugh, then kept walking because what else was I going to do?
Things kept appearing, and similarly, they would disappear too. Every morning when I took Jessie out for our morning walk, the item would always be gone.
One night there was a stop sign, a fully intact stop sign (but for a bend in the pole) was laying on the grass. It hadn’t been there earlier, but sure enough it was there that night. I figured someone had gotten in an accident and it had been dragged and dumped there, but every single stop sign at the intersections nearby was still there.
This is the first item that really made me scratch my head with how it got there. Did someone bring it from somewhere? They must have, because nothing else made sense.
And as always, when I took Jessie out in the morning, the stop sign was completely gone, like it had never even been there.
It went like this for a month or so, where every other night it seemed like I was seeing something new that would appear on the grass for a few hours and disappear by morning. It would sometimes be small, insignificant things: hats, cooking utensils, scissors, things like that. But when it got weird, it would get really weird. The weirdest thing I ever saw was a blow up doll. Like, an actual, fully blown up, blow up doll with the weird mouth and everything. I just stared at it because I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I couldn’t just leave it there, but there was no way I was touching that thing. I ended up leaving it because I figured it would be gone in the morning, and it was.
The weirdest thing about it all was that no one in the apartment ever talked about it. I asked others, even others with dogs who went out at night too, about it. They all would sort of laugh and say “that’s weird” or just shrug and say “no I haven’t really seen anything.” I even talked to my building manager asking if she ever saw anyone late at night on the cameras and she looked at me like I was crazy.
But after I asked her that, things… changed.
I was getting into the habit of seeing these random things almost every night, so it shocked me when I found an animal one night. It wasn’t alive anymore, unfortunately. It was a cat with its throat slit, and based on what I could see, it wasn’t that old.
I immediately gasped when I saw it and covered my eyes, like I could get away from it by looking away. I didn’t know what to do. I’d never found a dead animal before and I didn’t know if you needed to call someone? I’d only lived on my own for a few months at this point, so there was still a lot I didn’t know.
I pulled out my phone and searched for “animal removal,” and after some digging, I found that the city could send someone out during working hours to remove the dead animal. I decided I would call in the morning.
But as always, it was gone.
Even the blood that had stained the grass was gone now, and the sprinklers weren’t even on yet, so I know that couldn’t have washed the blood away.
Nothing appeared on the grass for a few days. I was always cautious when I would go out, afraid to find something worse, but for a bit, everything seemed normal.
It had been sixth months since I moved into my apartment, and on that night, something was on the grass.
But this time I recognized it.
It was a scrunchie. But not just any scrunchie. It was my scrunchie. It wasn’t just some solid colored random thing, it was a leopard print velvet feeling scrunchie with Mickey Mouse heads on it. I had used it that day, too. I picked it up and looked at it, and my hair was still entwined with it, and Jessie’s was on it too. When Jessie saw it, she immediately tried to jump up and get it. It was her favorite thing of mine to chew on whenever I dropped it, and she recognized that it wasn’t random, it was definitely mine.
For the first time, I took the thing on the grass.
I put it in my pocket and went back to my apartment immediately. I looked everywhere for the scrunchie, desperately trying to find it, but it wasn’t anywhere except in my pocket.
I immediately called the police.
I told them that I didn’t know how or why, but someone had broken into my house and stolen an item. After a very unsuccessful attempt of explaining what had been going on in the apartment, followed by an even more pitiful explanation of the scrunchie thing, they insisted I had probably just dropped it earlier and forgotten about it.
“Look, I know you’re young and all, but wasting our time won’t help you. I’d suggest you get organized before you shout that someone broke in and stole it, especially when there’s no signs of a break in.” The cop told me. He and his partner left and I could hear them chattering about me as they left, like I was insane.
This happened for a week before I had had enough. First it was an expensive makeup brush I had just gotten in a set. It was grassy and wet and gross for a day after I got it back. Then it was my lucky pen that I always used back in college for my tests. A half dozen of my most personal possessions would appear on the grass until I finally had enough.
The thing that made me snap was finding my social security card from my wallet on the grass. I snatched it and marched upstairs before Jessie could even relieve herself.
That next day, I called my parents. They knew what was going on from me telling them about it, though I imagine they were somewhat skeptical about it being as serious as I was describing. I asked my Dad to please come out and spend the night so if something appeared, I could show him. He agreed and came to my place that evening.
On our walk that night, I went out to search the grass and there was nothing there. Some people might have been relieved by that, having a reprieve from this constant weight on my mind, but this just made me panic more. Was I really just imagining this? Or was this… phenomena actually happening?
The rest of the night was uneventful, and my Dad went home and made me promise to call if I was feeling “bad” or “depressed” in anyway. I wasn’t depressed, I was scared out of my damn mind!
That night I decided not to go out. I took Jessie out early, before it got dark, then didn’t give her water for the rest of the night in hopes she wouldn’t have to pee again. It seemed to work, because she never pawed at the door or wanted to go out.
I was relieved for the first time in weeks from having to go outside and see whatever was left for me. I went to bed that night feeling like a weight had been lifted off of me.
The next morning, I woke up like normal, getting dressed and ready to take Jessie out. She seemed… skittish. I couldn’t really describe it, but it was like she was expecting someone or something to grab her from behind. Even when I pet her, she flinched.
I was grabbing my keys when I saw it.
Attached to the door, on the inside, was a note written on one of my own post-it notes.
Don’t ignore me. Never miss another night walk. I guarantee you will regret it if you do.
I stared at it for longer than I’d like to admit. The handwriting seemed rushed, and it was slightly smeared. I took it off the door and looked at it closer, then let my arm drop to my side. When Jessie got closer to me, she smelled the note and growled at it, like the note was threatening her too.
I called the police, explaining what happened and that I needed them ASAP, then I called my parents. Mom was working, but Dad was available to talk. I told him about the note and he seemed very concerned and told me he would be there soon.
After speaking to the police with my Dad there, the police finally conceded that there was something wrong, though they didn’t know what. They took the note so they could analyze it for fingerprints and Dad said he’d stay with me that night again just to make sure nothing happened. The police told me to definitely not listen to the note and to call them personally if anything happened.
My dad took Jessie out for me all day and I stayed in my apartment until night fell. Once night came, things seemed normal enough. My dad was playing with Jessie, I was still somewhat panicking over everything that was going on, but at least someone was here with me, and nothing normally happened with someone was with me.
I got ready for bed a bit before midnight, and finally went to sleep, hoping that the police would find the sick dude who was doing this.
I woke up to the sound of heavy breathing and something wet on my hand. Jessie often had dreams where she would breathe heavily and kick around, but when I felt for her on my bed, she was still as could be. I sat up and rubbed my eyes to find the source of the breathing, wondering if my Dad was alright.
In the corner of my room stood a man.
I knew it wasn’t my Dad because my Dad was a shorter, bigger guy. This guy was tall and slim, and he was staring at me in the darkness, breathing heavily in and out.
I always thought that in a situation like this, I would be brave and charge at someone, or scream for help at least. But I was frozen in fear. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t make a sound, I could only stare as my eyes tried to adjust to the darkness and see the man more clearly.
“I thought I told you not to ignore me. I thought we had something special, Emmy.”
The use of the nickname my parents used for me was enough to snap me out of my trance and make me start screaming. The man flicked the light on, and all I could see was blood on him.
“Now no one will stop you from seeing my gifts every night, Emmy. Not your Dad, not Jessie, no one.” His voice was oddly calm for someone who seemed to have murdered both a full grown man and a dog. I just kept screaming, trying to get out of my blood soaked bed and falling out of it. When I stood, the man was right up next to me, his eyes wide and full of, of all things, excitement and joy.
“Get away!” I screamed, but he grabbed my arms.
“No, not anymore. Now you get to see my gifts every day.”
I love my gifts that my new best friend gives me every day. Am I worried about how much he spends on such extravagant gifts? Not really, because he takes such good care of me. Safe to say that I’m the luckiest girl there is. Send anyone a gift and they’ll thank you, but give a gift every day and you’ll be a happy person is what he says! Help me thank him, won’t you? He always says that the best thing to do is to get things done first thing in the morning, so that’s what I’ll do every minute of every morning. Is this too long, or is it alright, do you think, Mom? Insane it’s already been two months since I last saw you.
Love you, Emmy