Before anything, I would like to take a moment to say that our house was built by my grandfather who died before I was born, so the house is fairly new, and the only death I know of was my grandfather when he died of a heart attack in the shower.
It all started when I was eight years old, and was baby sitting my six year old cousin. We were playing a computer game, and of course being our age, had small fights during the game. My mother and our grandma weren't expected to be home for a few more hours, and our basement is practically hollow so any sounds upstairs loud enough like a door or footsteps could be heard from where we sat. At the time, all we did have down there was a computer and a couch on which we sat, with a dark closet a few feet away and a stack of board games on the other side. We were giggling about something after a small fight we had about a dress on the game when a raspy, strained voice called our names. Freezing, we both slowly turned our heads to look at each other, and I had a feeling that she had heard it also. At the time, my cousin wasn't a good liar, but as she aged she became a little more secretive. Anyway, we only hesitated maybe for just a moment before he jumped from the couch and started to run towards the stairs, my cousin running right in front of me. As we ran, deranged laughter echoed from the dark closet. About halfway up the steps, my cousin suddenly came to a stop, leaving me to pitch forward, missing her by an inch. Without thinking, I got right back up and ran the rest of the way until I reached the top. Forgetting about my cousin, I just sat on the livingroom couch and cried until my mother and our grandmother came home.
After they arrived and comforted me, we went back down the stairs to find my cousin laying on the floor, her eyes open and staring at us. She didn't move nor speak until my mother ran down the stairs and picked her up, which she later told me she had passed out from fright after seeing blood shot eyes watching us run away.
I understand my cousin may be lying, but I believe her after the way she shook and burst out in tears when she told me what she had saw.
The second incident was when I was ten, playing with a stuffed kitten in my closet. My closet consisted of only clothes and a few stuffed animals, but other than that it was large, but wasn't so big that it matched the size of my room. Playing in solitude while my grandmother made dinner in the kitchen, I heard most of what she was doing, being that only a door separated my room with he kitchen. When she was done, I heard her walk in the living room, but then all sound was lost. If a noise ranged away from my room, it becomes inaudible the farther it gets. Now alone, I talked to my imaginary friend that I had named Marble, because of the shiny and colorful bag of marbles that sat on my dresser across the room. After a moment of talking to Marble inside of my head, loud, heavy footsteps sounded above my head where the attic was. The attic hadn't been touched since my grandfather had built the house, due to the reason that the door had been sealed off after he died, for reasons unknown. Standing up, I now whispered frantically to Marble, imagining in my head that she told me to grab the stuffed cat and run in the living room. Taking her made up advice, I clutched the cat in my hand while I darted out of the room into the living room where I told my grandmother what had happened, but left out that I had talked to Marble. All she told me was to stay in the living room, and I said nothing but listened to her.
I still wonder to this day what my cousin had saw in the closet and why my grandmother had offered nothing other than telling me to stay in the living room. Did my grandmother know who it was clomping around upstairs? Did my cousin possibly see an attacker tormenting us? Another question also left me scared: When I had imagined Marble's advice, I must note that I had thought it was my imagination, but why did Marble's voice sound unfamiliar, and not related to my own?
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