The house we lived in when I was a child was originally a 4 bedroom with one living room, but the previous owners had built a sunroom on the back of the end two bedrooms. My bedroom window opened into the sunroom and the 4th bedroom, used as a study, opened up and stepped down into the sunroom.
There was something not right about the area near the step between the study and the sunroom. I would get chills when stepping over the threshold into the study from the sunroom. Even the cat bolted over the spot, without fail every time. The sunroom had windows all down one side and the opposite side where there was a sliding door. I hated those windows at night. I always felt watched. I also could not sleep in my bedroom at night without my blinds being closed. I felt watched and unwelcome.
One night something sat on the end of my bed, just sat there for a while, and then I heard a woman's voice start to hum. Then the pressure changed on the end of the bed and it felt like someone was still sitting but also rocking. Then it disappeared.
A few nights later the same thing happened and then the bedcovers were pulled up to my chin, the sheets tucked in along the side. A sudden tingly feeling on my forehead (a kiss?). I was not scared by any of these occurrences, in fact, they seemed calming.
The sunroom was a different story. I was not always scared when I was out there. Sometimes I felt nothing at all. At night was the worst time. The sunroom was our kids room, our play room so it is where we would watch TV and play away from our parents.
One night when I was maybe 13, I got up to go to bed and as I stepped over the threshold into the study, I turned my body to switch off the light and I saw him. This thing. It looked like a man but I can tell you he was something else. Pure evil. His eyes were full of hate and the dislike poured off him in waves. He stood at the place where the light was, just glaring at me. He was solid but not solid, I could see the wall behind him but he had substance. I felt that without a doubt he meant me harm. He was holding an axe, not menacingly, it was just hanging from his hands.
I was stricken, I could not move. I wanted to bolt but felt as if glued to the floor. I suddenly heard a woman's voice scream "Go! You don't belong here!" Immediately this feeling of warmth came over me and I realized that I had been freezing cold standing in that spot. I watched as he disappeared before my eyes and I walked pretty shakily into my bedroom.
The woman returned to my bedroom that night and sat on my bed for as long as I was conscious of it. I began to realize over time that on the nights that I felt spooked or watched in my bedroom, she came to me. I don't know if she was connected to him in life or if she was simply a guardian of sorts.
One night when I was a little older, after a while of things being pretty quiet, I was sitting in the sunroom after my younger sister went to bed. My parents were out for the evening and I was babysitting my sister. The lights went off, the TV went blank, not off, just blank. I heard a voice in my ear say "She is not here to protect you now, girly. You're stuffed".
I jumped up, and ran to the study, but before I could reach the step, he was in front of me. It suddenly occurred to me that I had never seen him outside of this room and I realized he was not able to cross into the main part of the house for whatever reason.
I ran to my bedroom window and by sheer luck it was not on the lock but a mere millimeter off being fully closed. I wrenched it open and climbed in. I fell to the floor of my room, I looked back and he was standing in front of the window, hatred pouring off of him. He started to speak and I screamed at him "You are not welcome here, go back to where you came from!". He faded at that moment. I was aware a moment later that there was warmth with me in my room and her voice that said "Hush now, he can't hurt you anymore."
Why, I don't know. I was not a person with any real strength or training in these matters. Had I banished him? How could my words and conviction alone be enough to rid myself or my home of that? These questions rolled around in my head for days afterwards and it took me many years to realize that I may not have known what I was doing at all but I was and have always been a very strong woman. Maybe it was enough that I had the strength of character to face what ever evil was in that room and to challenge it. Maybe there was other factors that contributed to it.
There was never anything after that time. The room felt fine and even the cat was comfortable there.
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Thank you for your comments. I have always loved to write. I suppose if I could come up with an original fictional story I could make it my life. 🙂.
The house was smack dab in the middle of suburbia. There was a creek and bushy parkland area about 100 metres away. That place gave me the creeps from an early age so I didn't go there much. Our school was down the road.
I supppse that yes, Canada was easier to write about. Not only because I had a few more years of wisdom and reasoning to work with but also because it came full circle. I knew who, I knew what and it was comfortable. I have always found this story hard to tell. It was terrifying. As a child to witness what I believe was evil was scary in my protected little world.
My mother and my sister actually were speaking about this incident only a few weeks ago. My mother knows nothing about that sunroom. Never felt anything untoward. My sister knew. She said she too hated that place. I read this story to my mum and she was gobsmacked.
I see what you're saying about termites and I know what kind of image you have in mind there. Interesting.
I have one incident to write about and this has only happened in the last few weeks so I am still formulating my thoughts. But I've been thinking of putting it down. Stay tuned 🙂