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The House On Dwight Street

 

When I was young, from about three to ten years old, I lived in a house on Dwight St. In Jersey City, NJ. My parents rented the home from our landlord who lived down the street. Boy, did I hate that house.

I had my own room until my younger sister moved in with me and whenever it got dark outside, it always felt extremely late to me, I'm guessing because I was so young. I remember how I always felt something in the house.

My dad was always downstairs in the basement on his computer, and my mom was always at work. I remember the bathroom was upstairs and whenever I was up there, I felt like I was being watched. If I had to use the bathroom, I ran as fast as I could up the stairs, used the bathroom, and ran as fast as I could back down. Something up there felt 'dark' to me and I don't know what it was.

I was in my room with my sister one night, trying to go to sleep. My dad was in the bathroom taking a bath. My sister slept on the bottom bunk and told me that she was scared, so I went to sleep in her bed with her. We were laying there and she had a blanket that she carried everywhere and for some reason, she threw it into the closet (which had no door). A few seconds later the blanket flew back out of the closet, right back into the bed. It almost looked as if someone was carrying it by their index finger and thumb and pulling it through the air towards us. I got scared and ran out of the room to the bathroom door and was yelling for my dad, my sister right behind me.

Whenever I think about that house, I always feel like it was dark and empty. I remember my neighbor came over once and we were sitting at the table playing a game. We heard something and he went to see what it was. He told my dad that he saw something and then he left. He never told us what he saw.

A few months ago, around January of 2014, I mentioned that house to my mother and how I always felt watched there. She told me that when we lived there, she was getting ready for work one morning and went into her bedroom, where our two cats usually followed her. But that morning, they both stopped at the doorway and refused to go any further, both staring at something in the room, behind her. Of course, when she looked, she saw nothing. But she rushed out of the house as fast as she could.

Seeing something is one thing, but not being revealed to is just as scary, especially when things are being moved or being seen by others.

Thanks for reading!

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The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by yourghoststories.com. Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, _tayjadzia_, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion.

KatsWhiskers (3 stories) (5 posts)
 
6 months ago (2017-04-07)
There is something in my flat too that moves stuff but I would always prefer not to see who it is. You mentioned not seeing is just as bad as seeing but I am absolutely terrifies of opening my eyes one day and actually seeing someone looking back at me.

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