I have always believed in ghosts. When I was little I and my friends would pretend to babysit the baby ghosts. We named them and everything. As I grew, I tried to stop believing in ghosts and spirits, but every time I stopped believing, something would happen to me. I don't think my room is haunted nor do I think my house is haunted. I think it is me that's haunted.
I was lying in bed one night, and I couldn't sleep. I had this feeling in my stomach that I was being watched. I was lying on my back with the covers up to my chin, but I felt a cool breeze go down my spine.
Then I heard footsteps in the hallway. They weren't the slow creepy footsteps like in movies, but they were going at a normal pace. They were getting closer to my room, and I knew they were coming to my room because this hallway only leads to my room and my bathroom.
They were men. I could tell from their voices. They were whispering, but it was almost in some foreign language that I didn't understand. They only thing I understood was the word "MINE". Were they fighting over something? Were they fighting over me?
They were soon at the foot of my bed. Then it felt like they sat on my shins. They still continued to argue. I don't remember if my eyes were closed or not, but all I saw was something more than darkness. It was something scarier than darkness. There were shadows in the darkness and voices I couldn't understand. They were watching me and I could tell.
I tried to scream, but I couldn't move a muscle. I was tense and scared. It seemed like an eternity passed, and I finally got the courage to say, "Who are you and what do you want?" in a whisper because I was so scared.
The talking stopped abruptly, and the next second I was dead asleep. It was like they drugged me or something because that night I slept for eleven hours full of nightmares. I usually only sleep about seven or eight hours. I'm sure this wasn't a dream.
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