This is my first time writing up this story and I am very pleased to be able to share this experience for the first time.
The experience occurred in the house at which my family and I still reside. It is a medium sized semi-detached house in Jesmond, a suburb in the city of Newcastle, England. Built presumably in the late 19th century, it has had a fair deal of previous owners but none we knew too much about, the house's history was never important to us, although I wish now I knew about some of the history.
I am not an easy person, born stubborn, and not so easily persuaded, it may be significant to inform you I bare strong atheist views, just give you a clearer insight to my character. The happening I will explain to you is the first paranormal experience I had ever witnessed in my life, it changed me. I heard other 'ghost' stories in my life well before then but most I dismissed as generally crap, from people I thought that just wanted attention.
Getting further to the point, I have my own room, located just up the stairs, second on the left after my sister's room. The room is reasonable well sized, with a large window, double glazed, with a view out towards other people's houses, and downwards across my garden. We have a number of plants in our garden, it is very well kept and I always do my best to make the most of it.
My room never really appealed to me from the first time I saw it, sure it was big, but the feeling upon entering and looking into the room was always different to any other room. A few users on this site claim the existence of an 'evil' room in every house, and I would be willing to say my room unfortunately possesses that trait. I feel my mood heighten when I leave the room for breakfast in the morning, and the content feeling then disappear upon re-entry. It has always been this way. Other family members find my concern laughable; I am looking forward to (hopefully) being taken seriously about this matter for once.
Sometimes when I sit down studying at my desk I see what I think to be a figure moving fast across the room in the corner of my eyes, a human sized figure with a dark appearance and long hair, and a few times I may even have caught glimpse of short claw-like hands held in front of it. Thin and flat chested, I suppose it is androgynous.
Other times while I sit in my room watching TV etc, it happens suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck and my legs raise, and a cold chill sweeps through me. I suddenly get the feeling I am being watched. An eerie presence about the room makes me desperate to leave, quickly.
These things all contribute to the negative vibe about the room, and these things I could get used to, but one night changed everything.
January 5th 2008. I made plans to head off to bed for about 11pm, so I can head off early to go for a jog the next morning. I sneaked downstairs for a packet of crisps and a drink to bring back upstairs (everyone asleep at this time) and back up to my room, switch on the small TV and settle down snacking in my chair whilst I watch a film.
When I was finished I changed, closed the curtains, turned off the lights and jumped into bed, the time was roughly 11:12. Reality fades...
Clump. My body jolted, the first thing I noticed was the sudden temperature of the room, every part of me was pouring with sweat, the sheet I laid on felt sticky almost. I was sizzling. My head turned to the clock mounted on my desk, the dark green glowing digits: 3:42, this had never happened before, "Why am I sweating so much and what the hell just woke me up", I thought. I felt too awake to fall back to sleep, my mind racing, I stared into darkness... That very moment the most hauntingly demonic growling sounded from behind the window.
My heart dropped and I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head as my entire body paralyzed in utmost fear, my eyes clamped shut. No less than ten seconds later I witnessed the most hellish sound of clawing against the window, I thought it would never stop, it must have lasted a full five minutes before it died down. I remember laying there trying to block out the furious scraping, shuddering in horror, it was hell. I opened my eyes, and slowly stared towards the curtain. If I pulled it back I would be able to see this 'thing', but as it lashed against the window so desperately I just couldn't bring myself to do it, I laid there in agony until finally, and finally it stopped. I laid awake for five minutes more, waiting, and then fell asleep again.
A few details I would like to add: We had lived in the house for nine years by that point.
No other family member experienced what I did that night (I asked the next morning)
Nothing suspicious found on the window the next morning.
Thank you for sharing my experience, all comments welcome.