This story takes place in the home my family and I grew up in. Carlos was only three years old at this time; therefore, this took place about 15 years ago. I was about six years old. I don't remember every detail; only some. Most of the story is based on details provided by my older brothers and sisters.
My little brother, at this time, seemed to have an imaginary friend. This is what we believed, since we would catch him talking to someone in the basement when there was no other being but him. I remember sneaking up on him all the time while he was talking to someone. Me and my bros and sisters would listen through the vents and hear him giggle, run around, and play peek-a-boo with someone. No one was actually there, so everyone just assumed he had an imaginary friend. He never mentioned a name or anything so we just called this imaginary friend "Friend..."
One day, Ana, Rosa, Carlos, and I were home alone. I was in the kitchen making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Carlos and I. Rosa and Ana were in the living room watching TV and Carlos was in the basement playing with "Friend..."
I walked past the basement door, heard a ball bouncing, and Carlos was saying "Throw it!" I was always scared of Carlos's imaginary friend. I didn't want to interrupt Carlos and "Friend" playing, but his sandwich was done. I went into the living room and asked Ana to walk to the basement with me to go get Carlos; I was too afraid to go alone. She agreed to hold my hand and everything.
The steps to the basement curve before you get to the bottom steps. We went down the first four steps, and then turned left to go down the rest of the stairs. As soon as I turned left and took my first step, I peeped down around the corner of the steps to see Carlos. What I saw frightened me so much that I pulled my head back in as fast as I could, and told Ana to look. We peeped around the corner together and stared for about 30 seconds. Then we screamed and ran up the stairs.
This is what we saw: Carlos would bounce the ball; the ball would stop in mid-air and come back to him as if someone would catch and throw it back. Me and Ana ran to the living room and jumped on the couch with Rosa. Rosa asked for an explanation to why we were screaming. We told what we saw, but she had to see for herself. We went back down the stairs, this time we walked all the way down and found Carlos sitting Indian style in the middle of the floor, staring across the basement with a blank look on his face. Rosa said, "What's wrong Carlos?" Carlos didn't reply. Then she asked, "Where did the ball go?" Carlos said, "He took it..." "Who took it," asked Rosa. Suddenly the ball rolled towards her from the left side of the basement and hit her in her left foot. She picked Carlos up and we all ran upstairs.
Again I put this story together using Rosa and Ana's details and my own memory. The only thing about all this that I remember is that day. All other details were provided by my brothers and sisters. This really creeps me out. Especially when I remember the way the ball would just come back to him like there was an invisible person there-I shall never forget that.