Let me get this straight, in 2008, around the time I was five my family moved to Europe in a little old house located in this old little neighborhood. I never was exactly ecstatic to move. Me and my two other siblings much more preferring our old house, but, after my dad switched jobs about three hours away, our parents gave us no choice.
I don’t really want to say where it is, But it was in Rhode Island not too far from the Atlantic Ocean line. The house was small, two story, 3 bedroom house, only 2 bathrooms, an unfinished basement, and a barren backyard with a single wooden swing set and a slide. Yeah, wasn’t too exiting, but I was quite overjoyed to pick a room for myself. The two bedrooms, excluding the master bedroom were connected with a hallway and a bathroom in the middle for me and my siblings. wooden doors were also applied on each side of the hall for privacy. And, since I was the oldest, I got to have a room for myself.
After about a week or two, we both got to paint our own rooms any color we wished, I chose Blue, (My favorite color) While my brothers did a very, faint, light green. And I actually started to like my new room. But let me get things straight, from the moment we stepped in the house I felt uneasy. I don’t know why, but I never told anyone. The house was ALWAYS cold. We did everything to apply heaters, which didn’t work, checked the insulation, and even contacted the landlord. They applied a heater for the entire house assuming it would help. And as you can guess, It didn’t. We still felt the chilly air in almost every room of the house.
I wish this is all that happened there. I wish I can end my story here and say that’s all that happened, But I want to get this off my chest. After about a month of us enduring the cold, (We purchased heated blankets for each of us) We began to hear knocks. 3, slow knocks ranging from the basement, to my room, my siblings, or my moms. It got so annoying we called a plumber and checked the pipes, even tried to see if anything like a little animal or something was living in our walls. Nothing. They checked the pipes, all clean. Animal control checked for anything living in there, nothing. We literally never got an explanation for where the knocking was coming from. And it wasn’t outside the house. It was inside.
When we weren’t in the kitchen, drawers, which weren’t opened in the first place would slam shut. Sometimes we would wake up with them wide open. My parents, assuming it was me playing a prank threatened to ground me if I didn’t stop for I was scaring my little brothers. I tired telling her it wasn’t me but my mom refused to believe it. as each month went by it got worse, some months nothing would happen and then one day, bam we start hearing the nocks again and the drawers slamming shut. We all got heaters to apply in each room to help with the cold. And it helped. Somewhat. These heating fans have a button you have to flip to turn off, or just pull the plug they are attached to. Yet somehow, they would randomly shut off in the night. An some times the damn plug would be out of the outlet. But I ignored it either thinking my brothers were messing with me or it just fell off somehow.
My brothers would wake up crying to our parents saying that their toys “Bit them”. And they never said that before we moved in. My dad wasn’t having it. He put them to bed and pretended to tell the toys not to “Bite” my brothers and put them back to bed assuming it was a nightmare. I would wake up with bruises on my legs, and felt as if I just got scratched across the face. But there was no mark. My closets light would turn on and off, and I would get up, yank the door open and unscrew the lightbulb every night just to stop it.
My Parents room would always emit this weird, sniffing noise. Coming from neither of my parents. I only know this cause my dad told me this after we moved out. the curtains would rise up, and down every time I walked into my room then just lay, silently still. Every plant and pet (Mostly fish) would die literally the day after being introduced into our house. And we just stopped all together assuming we just had rotten luck. And each of us became sick of dealing with these stupid occurrences EVERY day. My brothers would complain of sores at least once a week with rashes around their arms and legs. We all would get terribly sick almost twice a month and checked for mold, or anything in our house which could make us this sick. And nothing showed up.
But it was this incident, that finally made us give up with dealing with this and move. It was around 2 AM or something, We all were sleeping in our separate rooms. And I was in my bed. Yes, i’ve heard of Sleep Paralysis, but I never got it prior, or after this occurrence. I woke up to my bedroom door opening. Assuming it was my mom or something I muttered “Mom?” groggily just enough so whoever was coming in the room could hear me. The door opened revealing a tall figure standing at the entrance of the door. Whatever that thing was, whether it was in my mind or in real life, stood there, I could feel its black eyes staring right at me. Paralyzing me under the covers. I couldn’t move. The figure stood there for a few minutes staring into my room. I began to hyperventilate. Anxiety rose into me and I begged it to stop.
The figure took a step into the room holding up its hand muttering a low, long “Shhhhhhhh” just about as loud enough for me to hear. The slim, almost naked figure slowly stepped closer to my bed heaving heavily like it just ran a marathon. I closed my eyes nearly crying. Waiting for this nightmare to stop, waiting to be woken up. I don’t know how long I spent laying there. with my eyes closed. And I couldn’t hear breathing or stepping anymore. Now that I think about it I never heard anything. I squinted open my eyes peering around the room. Nothing. The figure was gone. But I couldn’t move. In fact I felt almost as if something was holding my neck tightly trying to strangle me. I couldn’t breathe. I cried trying to yell for my parents.
Thats all I remember, I can’t right anymore past that cause I don’t remember anything. I woke up on the floor curled up in a ball, my mom and dad picking me up frantically trying to ask what was going on. I told my parents about the figure shaking feeling like I was going to vomit, my dad yanked open the closet door, bathroom door, and my brothers room door turning on each light. Nothing but an old shower and toilet and a ton of clothes. My stomach stung as well. two long scratches from my chest to abdomen were torn through my skin. My dad cursed and stormed out of the room to call the cops before yanking us all outside. Ill save some of the rest just cause this is getting long but, long story short we ended up staying in my neighbors house while they gave me cream and bandages to cover my scratch mark. From my dads word, the police never found anyone in the house after searching for over an hour. We understandably moved out after that, tired of the constant knocking, tired of the chilly air, tired of the constant nightmares and shitty living conditions. I’m not about to say where we moved after that, for my parents still live there to this day.
To whoever bought our else after we sold it. To whoever lives in it now and has to deal with these every fucking day, I am sorry. I am sorry how we probably ruined your life. I am sorry about what you probably have to deal with this. But I am never going back to that house again.