Growing up I had a troubled childhood, but the years between 12 and 14 years of age was the worst and that is when the following incidents take place.
My mother, stepfather and I had moved to a new house on the edge of the countryside. My stepfather was mentally and physically abusive to me and my mother at the time. I hated him and hated being at home if my parents were there. I would escape in my room, light candles and read about paranormal and pagan rituals. (I am not saying this caused anything. I am just explaining the mindset I was in.)
It wasn't long before bangs and knocks began and we all brushed it off as new houses settling, but they seemed to come from the floor walls and sometimes even the roof. As time went on, it was not uncommon for there to be the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall even if no one was in the house. It could be heard from the driveway.
As time went on the atmosphere at home got worse. I lived in fear of my stepfather. He would always fight with my mother. I would spend more and more time in my room when other people were home. It would be always cold in my room no matter what the season was. More and more weird things started to happen. I actually thought I was losing my mind.
There would be strange growling noises that always came from just outside whatever room I was in and when I would go and investigate nothing would be there. Outside my bedroom window at night I would hear an almost purring noise but it couldn't be a cat because it would be so loud the cat would have to be the same size of a German Shepherd. The noise would roll in and around the room making it vibrate. I would lay awake, too scared to move each night.
One day after school I was laying on the floor in front of the TV watching cartoons. When the shadow of someone behind me was reflected into the screen, I straightened up a bit because it looked like my stepfather. I hadn't heard him come home. I turned around and there was no one there. I couldn't move, I was so frightened. I just stared into the empty space where I thought someone should be. I finally got the courage to turn back and the silhouette was still there. My breath caught in my throat as I watched the silhouette. I heard a cupboard in the kitchen open and then close. I was still in shock, unable to move, when something heavy smacked me in the back of the head and rolled onto the floor in front of me. It was a glass from the kitchen. I couldn't believe it. I shot up ran out the door and to the centre of town to catch a bus to my grandmother's house.
A few weeks after that incident, I was still staying with my grandmother. My mother was in my grandmother's kitchen in tears to tell me she was leaving my stepfather. I only went back to the house once after that to pack up my things. Things actually felt calmer in there, which was odd, but I was glad to be leaving.
At the time I thought I had lost my mind and didn't know what to make of it all, but now that I am older and wiser I realise that the festering emotions in the home and the dark head space I was in had caused a poltergeist.