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macmanmike6100 · 08-09-2003, 04:51 PM

When I was in third grade or so, I moved into the bedroom downstairs, because I wanted my own room (our house was a two-family house, my grandma used to live with us until she moved into a local senior community).

Many, many things were experienced down there. I used to stay up very late (1, 2am) and read. I would hear the door of the downstairs kitchen or bathroom SLAM shut fairly frequently. The computer room would sometimes give me a major chill as I was typing late at night (yes, I went through the standard procedures to ensure that there was no way it could've been a draft).

But the most memorable and most frightening story happened one night when I was in 8th or 9th grade. I was up late in my bedroom, reading a book. It was almost 2, I think, and I had my bedroom door open. The stairwell, from which you can go up or down when you come in through the front door, is very close to my doorway.

Because of its close proximity, I was always able to hear my dad unlock the front door and walk upstairs.

This time, I heard footsteps coming down.

Now, I was reading and assumed that I didn't hear him unlock the door. I also assumed that he was coming down to check up on me, so I was very excited. I put my book down and made haste to the stairwell to greet my dad.

He wasn't there. The stairwell was dark, the front door still locked.

Needless to say, I was scared shitless and I ran back to my room, shut the door, and grabbed a hold of a baseball bat. When I regained my composure, I was worried that maybe somebody broke in, so I was really ballsy and walked around downstairs looking for signs of forced entry or, at least, somebody in the house.

Nothing.

Anyway, I still don't believe in spirits, ghosts, the afterlife. But I won't deny that there were many a-time that "unexplainable" events occured.

08-09-2003, 04:51 PM	#13 (permalink)
macmanmike6100 High Honorary Junkie Location: Tri-state.	When I was in third grade or so, I moved into the bedroom downstairs, because I wanted my own room (our house was a two-family house, my grandma used to live with us until she moved into a local senior community). Many, many things were experienced down there. I used to stay up very late (1, 2am) and read. I would hear the door of the downstairs kitchen or bathroom SLAM shut fairly frequently. The computer room would sometimes give me a major chill as I was typing late at night (yes, I went through the standard procedures to ensure that there was no way it could've been a draft). But the most memorable and most frightening story happened one night when I was in 8th or 9th grade. I was up late in my bedroom, reading a book. It was almost 2, I think, and I had my bedroom door open. The stairwell, from which you can go up or down when you come in through the front door, is very close to my doorway. Because of its close proximity, I was always able to hear my dad unlock the front door and walk upstairs. This time, I heard footsteps coming down. Now, I was reading and assumed that I didn't hear him unlock the door. I also assumed that he was coming down to check up on me, so I was very excited. I put my book down and made haste to the stairwell to greet my dad. He wasn't there. The stairwell was dark, the front door still locked. Needless to say, I was scared shitless and I ran back to my room, shut the door, and grabbed a hold of a baseball bat. When I regained my composure, I was worried that maybe somebody broke in, so I was really ballsy and walked around downstairs looking for signs of forced entry or, at least, somebody in the house. Nothing. Anyway, I still don't believe in spirits, ghosts, the afterlife. But I won't deny that there were many a-time that "unexplainable" events occured.