It all started with that black figure in my person (please, firstly read my first story "Karabasan or Not?").
My room was always a bit darker than the rooms of my mother and younger sister. It was colder and, may I say... Scarier? Every time when I entered my room all was silent and the air was thick and cool. And you can imagine, we housed an apartment in a big block, which means that we had over, under and beside our home our neighbours with their small and loud children.
After that shadow figure, the bulbs would burst only in my room when I switched the lights on. After a few months, my mother called an electrician to check this out. He said that everything was fine. After that, the burstings of the bulbs would stop and happen only occasionally.
When I slept, I found myself often awake in the middle of the night, like someone was calling me. I am not sure how often I stood up to check on my family and see who might have called me. When I would return to bed, I would hear voices, like whisperings. I always thought that my stupid neighbours were never sleeping.
And when I no longer cared about these whisperings, even though it sounded like beside my ear, the bangings on the wall would start. Always the same wall. The wall which was between my and my sisters room. Why I know this? Because I would often sit on my bed with my back on that particular wall and do my homework. The bangings were not that loud, but I could feel the vibrations on my back. Two or three times I would hear that dull hit on the wall. The first few times I thought it was my sister who, logically, was in that room on the other side.
I decided that I should humor her and play along. A few months we did it and I wondered why the sounds of steady hits would sometimes change from big, hard hits to small soft hits. We never talked about it until I got annoyed one night and rushed to her room to say that she had to stop so I could sleep. But she was already asleep when I entered her room. (She can't hear on one ear and she was lying on her side. That way, she muffled the sounds to her healthy ear.)
I was annoyed as hell and thought that maybe my neighbours were being stupid again. When I laid back to bed, the bangings on the wall continued. It was always like right beside my head or my legs. And I would still feel the vibrations on the wall.
That very night, I had a restless sleep. When I woke again, I was cold and searched for my blanket. I felt it on the ground and started pulling on it. But it wouldn't budge. It was like it was stuck there. Annoyed, I reached for the table lamp, only for the bulb to burst again. Angry now, I stood up and went to the switch, which was in the entry of my room. The lights, this time, were well. When I saw my blue blanket on the ground, the half of it under my bed, I went to reach for it again and pull it out without any problems. It was a weird thing that night, because that same thing would happen two more times and would stop completely.
The next day I asked my sister of the bangings on the wall. She said that she wondered why I would hit the wall so often and that hard, that she could feel the vibrations. Sometimes she would softly hit back, since it did hurt her small hands.
After a few years, when I was about 18 years old, the unclear whisperings became more clear and I could hear sometimes a deep and soft voice whispering my name, right beside my ear. Once, I even fell from my bed because it scared the living daylights out of me.
I tried to talk to my mother about it, but she refused to listen. Saying that when I would no longer think about it, it will go away.
And really, I tried. When it did not work, my mother said that I should pray, which I did. That did not work either. The whisperings and bangings and the cold, dark atmosphere in my room would continue.
I am not sure when exactly that happened, but I became an aggressive person. Not just aggressive like going to hit someone, but being very rude, very easily angry and annoyed and VERY mean. Sometimes, I would not understand myself and sometimes I would be that angry that it would continue for days. The mood swings were insufferable.
Even though I would be angry at my family and the whole world, I started to let my door opened. I was scared without any reason and started to search for protection. I even went to sleep by my elder sister.
One night, when I tried to sleep there, I laid on my side looking out of the window, my sister right behind me, with her back turned to me. That night I could not sleep because it was a hot summer night. And while I was again angry to the whole world, I screamed. Literally. I first heard the "SLAP" sound and then felt a soft sting on my left shoulder. I quickly turned around to see my elder sister nearly falling over from bed. (Who would scream in the middle of the night anyway?)
She looked at me and tried to understand what was wrong with me and I told her that someone hit me and scared me. I even accused her of being the culprit, but when I saw her falling from the bed, I knew that it wasn't her. I just wanted to believe that it was her who did it. My sister turned the lights on and looked over my shoulder. And really, there was a print of a very small hand on my shoulder.
Sadly, no one had back then a good mobile phone with a good photo quality. And more sadly, no one thought about taking a picture of it in the first place anyway. After that incident, that small hand thing never happened again. For which I am very grateful.
There are so many small incidents that actually have no connection to each other. And I think I will never know what happened during these 9 years.
If you have any idea, I would still be very curious about your opinion to this/these culprit (s).
Thank you for reading.