The Kid in my Closet

I have had many moments within my childhood home that sent shivers down my back.

Many times I’ve awoken in bed only to find myself trapped, paralyzed and hallucinating terrifying things. Almost all of these experiences felt like just that; Hallucinations.

But this was different.

In order for you to understand this, I’ll explain the general layout of my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a large square room, a large bed in the general center pressed up against the wall across from the glass doors that lead to the backyard-balcony. To the left of the queen sized bed, is a walk-in closet. The closet has a relatively heavy, polished, hard-wood door.

This closet is not near any opening to the outside at all, so any sort of draft or anything like that is absolutely impossible.

Anyways, back to the story. I had been drawing in my sketchbook while sitting under the warm quilts on my bed. I had been leaning against the wall, the lamp beside my bed shone a fluorescent light on my room.

As my phone’s alarm went off, reminding me to go to bed, I hit the snooze button. I remember the time had been 10:30 at night.

As the alarm goes off for the second time, I finally decided to try to get to sleep. I had had an apprehensive feeing since around 9:00, so I decided to keep the bright lamp on. I payed down and tried to curl under my thick blanket, my back towards my closet.

In the midst of drifting into sleep, I heard something. My ears registered four, soft knocks. Like knuckles on wood.

“Hhell—oh?”

I tensed up, that apprehensive feeling growing and gnawing at my  stomach as I slowly woke up and somewhat comprehensible thought made its way back into my head.

I could hear blood rushing in my ears as the adrenaline kicked in.

“Hhell- oh? Yyo-u there?”

I felt so scared, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.  I didn’t want to turn around for fear of seeing somthing.

The voice sounded like a child’s, it’s words were softly spoken and the syllables of the words spoken seemed to break up and go silent for a few seconds before resuming the word.

I reasoned with myself, thinking that it had to be one of my siblings.  Two or three of the six kids that make up my siblings had a cough and/or sore throats, so that might have been why the voice was somewhat unfamiliar. Maybe one of them had had a nightmare and wanted to sleep in my bed.

I remember thinking to myself,

‘Hell, I’m fifteen now! I shouldn’t be scared of my sister. The lights are on for gods’ sake!’

 

I took a breath through my nose and sat up. When I turned to the door, (which was parallel to the closet,) I found that it was closed.

My closet, however, was slightly open.

My brave-big-sister act dropped completely when it started slowly opening further.

Two more soft knocks sounded as it opened.

I could hear quiet breathing.

That was it for me. I shouted loudly for my mother, practically screaming. My mother and father rushed downstairs and into the room. I could hear the house wake up, and the apprehension faded.

Ever since then, I get the feeling there is someone or something else living with me in my room. I just hope to whatever got there might be that it doesn’t have melevolant intentions.

Whether or not it is the spirit of a child, or trying to deceive me with the empty promises of feigned innocence, I always feel a muted version of that apprehension, as if somthing is just about to happen.

Good or bad?

I can’t tell anymore.

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