I have been thinking a lot lately about the very first paranormal experiences I had when I was little. I am 24 and I live in Texas now, but I was born in El Salvador. I lived there until I was 13. This story takes place there.
I was about 6 years old and I remember I lived with my mom, dad and sister, in this old colonial Spanish style house. I had my own room, my sister did too. My room had this huge closet made of dark wood, very vintage looking type. I remember being very afraid of it, never I slept looking at it. I always slept on my left side (the closet was on my right). I didn't know why I felt like that.
One day I remember walking with my doll in my hands looking for another toy. I thought I left it in my dads studio/library so I went in there. When I walked in, I remember seeing aa old man with a white mustache, white hair, dressed in brown. I remember thinking "this old guy lives in my closet" and after that I never slept in my room. I asked to be moved to my sister's room and never went inside the studio again.
I never told anybody, not even my sister. One night, I was in bed with my sister talking. The house was quiet, our parents were in their room. Everybody was ready to go to sleep when we heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Like pots and pans being clapped and banged and tapped to each other like playing music. My dad said out loud, "OK kids, come up to sleep. Stop playing." (our parents bedroom was right next to ours) We answered right away,"Its not us. We are here, in bed."
I am sorry if this story does not have more detail. I don't remember more than a few flash backs but I will continue to write my stories according to my age, until I get to this year. Every time you will have more details as I am older in the next stories. Thanks for reading:)