eople say that when you see a shadow in your closet, it's just your imagination. When you hear footsteps in your attic, you're most likely dreaming. When you feel a cold draft against your face, it's just the wind. A lot of people say this because they believe it's true. But a lot of people also say because they're in denial. They don't want to believe that ghosts are real, that people and houses can possibly be haunted, because they don't want to live in fear. Of course, there are the majority of people that say it just to bug you, but it's their loss. My aunt Tara was the example of denial.
It happened late on a warm summer evening, August 13th, 2010. I was sitting on the couch watching a movie with my aunt when I felt the hairs on my arms rise, and all of a sudden the room got very cold. I remember looking to her and asking if she felt the temperature drop, and she said no. Through the whole rest of the movie I was uneasy and it felt like something was tugging on my pant leg slightly.
When I went to bed I clearly remember closing my blinds, shutting the window and closing my door as well as my closet. When I woke up the next morning everything was open. I assumed it was my mom; she liked to check in on me when I slept. But I'm sure she wouldn't open my closet, nor would she open my window all the way and let me freeze in my sleep.
That's when things started to get really strange. My aunt Tara asked me to get her broken camera from the basement (she wanted to get my uncle to fix it.) I was about to go down the basement stairs when the room got really, really cold, as in so cold it was painful. Everything was quiet for a few seconds, and then my grandma's antique lamp flew off the shelf, and I mean flew. It was as if someone threw it, and it shattered when it hit the floor. I then heard a slight rustling of boxes from below the stairs (there's an area there where we store crates so we can have more room.) I felt a light hand on my back, and then it seemed to push me slightly so I stumbled. I was extremely afraid and ran out of the basement.
After telling my aunt Tara about what happened, she seemed very angry with me. She denied everything. She said the lamp was the shelf (apparently it was an "old, weak" shelf and couldn't support the heavy glass lamp.) She also said I was imagining the rustling and the hand. Yet when she explained this it seemed as if she was trying to be mad about it, and she seemed disturbed and uneasy. I tried my hardest to get her to believe me but she stayed persistent. Eventually she just left the room.
This is when I began to get scared.
I was getting ready for bed when I felt a sharp pain on my ankles. I set up my bed and examined my feet, and was horrified at what I discovered. Two thin red lines were aligned perfectly on the backs of my ankles, and one spot on my foot was dark red. At this point I realized this was the proof I needed to get my aunt to believe me.
When she saw the marks, she began to cry, telling me about how this was her deceased ex-boyfriend's house and they'd never gotten along well. We talked a lot that night, and we finally agreed that it might be him. We never understood why he wanted to hurt me though. I still am currently experiencing activity like this, yet not as severe (some of which includes creaking, moving chairs and my dog barking at my love seat.) Can anyone please help me?