When I was seven yrs. old, my parents and I lived in the [i]weirdest[/i] little house on an island off the coast of Georgia. Not only was our house weird, but there were strange happenings through out the whole neighborhood. (stay tuned for the tales.)
At one time, this island had been nothing but indian land, and then home to many settlers that had come from overseas. The whole island was drenched in history, and tales of ghosts were the norm.
Now about my room...
I was an only child, and had to sleep in a big, scary bedroom all by myself. (Except for my fat, orange cat, named Marmalade, whom I would stuff under the covers with me every night.) I did this, because I was afraid of "the man" in the closet. I never actually [i]saw[/i] a man,(Thank you, God) but had a very [i]distinct [/i]image of him in my mind.
He would do things that absolutely[i] terrified[/i] me-like knocking on the inside of the closet door, and playing with my toys-especially the ones that made a lot of noise. I remember in particular, a "Little People" set by Fisher Price, that had a jail cell on it (for the BAD little people) and it would click five times back and forth each time it was turned. For months and months, I would lie awake at night listening to the Click, click, click, click, click OVER and OVER and wondering what in the hell was making it [i]do[/i] that?? Though in my minds eye, I knew it was the bad man. I think the only reason I never actually saw him is because I lay huddled under my covers praying with my cat that it would go away and let me rest. By now, I was very much sleep-deprived.
One night in particular, I was very afraid, as the toys in my room were really making a racket. The jail cell was clicking. the music box was playing, the toy tv was going (you know the kind that winds up, and then a picture scrolls by as it plays a tune.) And Marmalade was meowing very loudly to be let out!
I contemplated screaming for my mom, but since she nor my step father could hear the noises, I'd been getting in quite a lot of trouble lately for waking them up at night. So I lay still, until...
The covers started to move, and it felt like they were about to be pulled right off of me, even though I had a [i]death grip[/i] on them. Marmalade was hissing, and trying to claw her way out, and I started crying.
It was at this point, that the knocking on the closet door started, and then, I hear someone breathing right behind me. I'm telling you, I was FREAKING OUT! And then, to make matters worse, I hear the most evil, hideous laugh I have ever heard. It sounded straight out of a horror movie: the classic "MUAHAHAHAHA!!"
I was outta there folks.
I took off flying in to my parents bedroom. (And so did Marmalade-like a cat outta hell.) I pounced on my parents bed (breaking the frame underneath) and my parents sat straight up. My step father started fumbling for his glasses, and had I not been terrified out of my mind, I would have had to laugh. His hair was sticking STRAIGHT UP and he had the most bewildered look on his face.
I knew he was mad, and I quickly stammered that there was "Something" in my room, to which, my step-dad replied he knew something [i]else[/i] that better be in my room in about two seconds. So back to the dreaded room I went. (Alone-Marmalade was hiding, the scaredy cat.) And I layed there cringing under the covers the rest of the night with the light ON.)
I developed an ulcer over the seven months we lived there, and my mom finally convinced my step dad we needed to move out. He seemed more willing than I expected, and I remember us moving out in the middle of the night.
It wasn't until I was grown that my step dad told me that while I was in the hospital (from the ulcer) that he was at home alone one day when "something" slapped him on the butt in the shower, and then laughed at him from the closet.
And that is my story. I hope you enjoyed it.
Peace ppl, and remember...
Leave the night light ON!