I've been thinking about this for a while, and I thought I should post the story up here to see if someone could give me their opinion on it.
You see, it started about two years ago. Now, I come from family of ghost magnets. Unbeknownst to me until about a year and a half ago my grandmothers on my father's side are Santeria witches and my mother is a spiritual magnet. At a young age I could catch glimpses of the departed, like flashes of images in my mind. I could even hear faint whispers and footsteps, varying on the house and time.
Now, ever since I entered high school my life has been a bit of an emotional hurricane. I'm not speaking of the typical "everyone hates me because I'm different" issues either I got past that in seventh grade. No, what has been going on was bulimia, attempted suicide, and switching from living in a house with my verbally abusive step father and gossiping step family to living with my father. The house was built from scratch back when I was ten, and I have no inkling of a clue as to what the house before it looked like and who lived there.
This was a very tough time for me, and I battled a lot of demon my sophomore year of high school. It was around August of 2007 when I first started seeing him. At first I had thought he was my step mom, they were both around the same height with dark hair. However, when I turned to speak with who I thought was her, I realized he was a different being entirely. He stood at about five eight, with dark straight hair that hung to his shoulders. I always covered the left side (my right) of his face. He wore on off white long sleeved shirt, and beige trousers. I couldn't see his eyes, and for what felt like an hour we stared each other down from opposite ends of the hall. Then, before I could take to him he turned away and walked into my baby brother's room. In shock, I'd followed him only to find that there was nothing in the room to greet me but a floor full of toys.
The next year or so continued like that. I would walk into a room, and he would be standing in one of the corners. He would notice me come in, we would stare each other down, and he would leave. Often times he'd seem disgusted with me, however I never got a negative feeling with him. He felt like the older brother I'd never had the liberty of knowing. I remember playing with a Ouija board once in my house, and asking him his name. He kept toggling between the names "Keith" and "Kennith". I wonder if there were two people talking to me at the time, either way his name must start with a K.
Eventually we moved out of the house due to issues with the in-laws who lived below us. The new house was okay; every now and then I'd catch him out of the corner of my eyes.
What bothers me now is that I'm going through an even tougher time in my life right now. Almost a year ago I was sexually assaulted during my abusive relationship with an ex. I'm in the process of filing a complaint, and I just feel rather alone. Similar to how I felt before he came into my life. I miss him, and I wonder why he doesn't visit me anymore. I used to think he was my guardian angel, but he's no longer around when I need him the most.
It isn't as if he was solely haunting the old house, for he followed me to the new one. Still, I haven't seen him since last summer. Does anyone know what that's about? Or have any idea what kind of spirit he is? I know he can't be related to me, he simply doesn't look like anyone of my family members immediate or not.
Loading comments....
As for the young man. Well, he isn't dressed in uncommon clothing. He had to have died around the 1970's at the latest. He didn't have a clear pattern when it came to appearing. He just showed up on a whim, whenever he felt like it. What I found odd about him was that he would seem to wait in rooms for me and was ALWAYS in a corner (never a specific one, just a corner). It didn't matter if someone was in the room prior to me, once I walked in he would leave shortly after. He never spoke or interacted with me except the one time I'd asked him his name, on occasion he would follow me to a different room if I left before I left and didn't give him proper recognition though he didn't outright try to grab my attention. His face was always blurry, as if I was looking at him from under the water. I had grown so used to him that his sudden abscence is unsettling.
Also, thank you for the last paragraph of your comment. It's much appriciated at the moment.