In the sixth grade we had moved for the final time. It was a simple Central Cali home with a huge front yard with huge trees to shade the yard, and a huge backyard for the dogs to run around. It was a four bedroom home that was perfect for my parents, my younger brother and me to live in since my older sisters had moved out. It seemed like a great place for us to be and we were all very happy and comfortable in our new home.
As the weeks went by and we had settled in, things started getting a little weird. I would stay up late at night in the back room because it was the game room and I would spend long long nights on myspace.
So, as I am being my usual preteen self and spending my late night on the computer, I began to feel very strange. I was totally consumed with fear because I was in the dark and I was afraid someone was behind me and, at 3:30 in the morning, I am the only one awake at this time.
I felt like I was being closed in on and it was terrifying. I mustered up the courage to turn around to see what was there. There was nothing. I then heard what sounded like footsteps walking down the hall. I followed them and I was positive that my brother was messing with me. I turned the corner and my brother was asleep on the couch in the living room. I know what I heard and it is really hard to brush of something that terrifies you that much in that little bit of time.
I never saw what it was that night, but it did come back, over and over again until I finally moved out last summer.
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