Home All Alone

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Home All Alone
Cracked Open Door / Stock Photo

It happened when I was 13 years old. My mother and my step-father rented out a new place to live. The house was surrounded by trees, and there was a grave yard right beside it. This didn’t bother me though because I had lived in the country all my life.

What did bother me is that when my mother and step-father would go to the store, I would be all by myself and things would happen. I would have time to get settled watching TV after they left, say an hour. Then I would get an awful, cold feeling. I would look down the hallway into their room and the light in my parent’s room would come on. I would try to ignore it and think that I was imagining things. Then I would hear the door shut to their room.

I would get scared because no one was there but me. The only entrance to the house was right in front of the couch where I was sitting. I would sit in fear until they came home. It would not happen when they were home but as sure as they left the same thing would happen. I asked my mother if any one had died in that house, and she would always say no. About a year after we moved from there, she finally told me that someone did die in the house; an old woman. And guess what? She died in that bedroom.

Stories are personal encounters that were submitted to us by our website visitors. Unless otherwise mentioned, stock photos are used to help represent the story and are not actual photographs that were taken during the author's encounter.

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