Growing up, my Grandma lived in the apartment upstairs in the same complex where my family and I lived.
It was an old building with only twelve apartments in total.
She resided in apartment 2874, while we lived in 2868.
Since before I was born, Grandma had been living alone.
However, she had this closet in her hallway leading to her bedroom that seemed to have a strange occurrence every month.
Once a month, Grandma would ask my mom to come upstairs and help her check her closet.
She claimed that the night before, she would hear a lot of noise coming from her closet.
However, one day my mom was busy and asked me to go in her place.
Little did I know, this would be the start of a series of strange and unsettling experiences.
As I entered Grandma's apartment and made my way to her closet, I was taken aback by the sight before me.
It looked as if someone had ransacked the whole closet.
Her clothes were all upside down, boxes were open, and their contents were scattered across the floor.
It was as if a tornado had swept through Grandma's closet but left the rest of the apartment untouched.
I asked Grandma if this happened every month, and she confirmed that it had been occurring for the past twenty years.
At the time, I didn't pay much attention to it and simply tidied up the closet before continuing with the day.
However, around two years later, my mom suddenly passed away.
In an effort to save money and have some support, Grandma decided to move in with my dad and me.
We were in the process of moving when my dad asked me to retrieve some papers he had upstairs in Grandma's bedroom.
Reluctantly, I made my way to her apartment, feeling a sense of unease in the air.
When I walked past the closet, I could hear loud banging noises as if someone was desperately trying to break out from the inside.
Trying not to think too much about it, I brushed it off and continued towards the bedroom.
However, as soon as I stepped inside, the bedroom door slammed shut, trapping me inside.
Panic set in as I struggled to open the door, only to find that it was being held shut from the other side.
Luckily, I managed to force the door open, and I ran out of the apartment as fast as I could.
As I fled past the closet, I noticed that the banging had intensified and the whole structure was shaking violently, as though it was on the brink of exploding.
Completely terrified, I made it back to my own room, tossing the keys to Grandma's apartment to my dad, and exclaimed, "Forget that! You go get it!" The strange occurrences in Grandma's closet had escalated to a point where I didn't want any part in it.
From that day forward, we never mentioned the incident again, and my dad took on the task of retrieving any belongings from Grandma's apartment.
We moved on with our lives, trying to forget about the unsettling experiences we encountered.
To this day, I still wonder what caused those disturbances in Grandma's closet and if there was something more sinister at play.