It was the year 2009 in La Mesa Village, Monterey, CA and I had just gotten back home from my college classes. It was about 3 PM so my mom was out down the street picking up my two little sisters from school and my dad wouldn't be back from work for another 2 hours. After parking my car I used my spare house key to open the front door and I walk across the tile floor to the carpeted hallway.
The tile floor divided the living room to my right and the computer room to my left. Where the ends of the room stopped, that's where the carpeted hallway began. This hallway was just big enough for the closet where we hang up our coats and place our shoes. In front of me was a perpendicular hallway. Immediately to the right in the hallway was my room, and the rest of the rooms were to left down the hall.
I walked into my room and dropped my backpack off on my bed and empty out my pockets of my wallet, notepad, pens, and junk and walk back towards the front door to hang my clip of keys on the wall. As I cross the threshold of carpet to tile I catch a glimpse of a pile of clothes on the couch in the living room to my left.
Let me paint a picture here. Standing on the tile, door to the right, you are looking toward the front of the house through the living room. The flat screen TV was dead center between two tall windows and each couch was on either side. My parents, when they fold the newly cleaned laundry, would place the basket in the center of the living room so they can place the folded clothes on one of the couches and divide them according to person while watching TV.
I assumed the clothes where there because my mom was doing laundry before she had to pick up my sisters from school. I observed all of this from the corner of my eye and thought nothing of it.
Until it moved.
I looked over and see a burnet girl around 14 year's old sitting on the left side of the couch on the right side of the living room. Her arms were placed on her knees as she was leaning forward. I guess I caught her eye too because as I walked from around the corner, from carpet to tile, she looked up and our eyes met. She saw me and I saw her. She was wearing a black long sleeve, v-neck shirt with silver floral-line designs around the neck and chest. Almost immediately after seeing her, she vanishes. Not like a slow fade but not like Candyman does in his movies either when he appears. But somewhere in between. I was a bit spooked but I didn't feel threatened by her. If anything, that look she had made me feel lonely or lost.
Months later, I was doing dishes. My family was home and my dad had received some Netflix in the mail. They were getting through the previews as I washed their dishes from dinner while they ate their desert.
The kitchen light, in the center of the room, was on and the sink light, above where I was doing dishes, was also on. The dining room light across from me was off and the only other light that was on was the hall light to my right. Same layout as like from the front door.
This may sound weird but I've proven this several times to myself and others throughout my life. I can usually feel the density of the air in the room I'm in shift when someone or something enters the room but for some reason I didn't this time.
While I washed from station to station, left to right (Soapy water > Rinse > Dishwasher), I noticed, during my rinsing, that a dark shadow projected on the corner of where the sink ended on my left and the perpendicular counter began (where the microwave was). I thought it was just someone coming up to place their desert dishes on the counter next to the sink.
I turned to see who it was but didn't expect someone's head to be inches from my face so I got startled. I jumped and glanced back to make sure I wasn't going to trip over the dishwasher door that was open and look back in front of me in a matter of a quick second. I thought it was my sister but when I looked no one was there. If she had even the slightest possibility of running out the kitchen in time for me not to see her, or even walking into the kitchen, I would've heard her footsteps. But there were none.
I laugh to myself as I begin to walk it off and as I take my first few steps I get a chill and tingly feeling as if walking through a draft. When I walked back, I felt nothing but the warm room temperature of the house. I had told my mom about the girl I had seen before sitting on the couch so I felt I had to tell her this.
"Mom?" I call as I walk over to the doorway to the computer room.
"What?" she asks from the living room.
"It happened again."