This is the only time I think I may have experience something, but who knows, could've been nothing. But first, some background.
When I was seventeen, I went through a hard time. I had no contact with my family due to a massive family drama, and had moved out on my own, starting from scratch and completly looking after myself. It was a very lonely time for me, as I was working to support myself and my friends were still at school. Part of looking after myself involved finding my own place to stay.
I found a room for rent in an old house in a long established area. At first view, I thought it was perfect. It was in the right price range and had space. It was two story with a kitchen, bathroom, and living room downstairs, and a rather large room upstairs. There were two other flat mates living there who seemed like decent people. So I moved in.
Pretty much straight after moving in, some odd things would happen. I didn't think anything of them at the time, of course, but as more happened, the more curious I became. Two days after moving in, I was sick, and I mean sick as a dog. No matter how many doctor visits I made, or how much medication I sucked down, I was constantly sick. At the time, I put it down to how cold the house was. I thought it was just badly insulated, being an older house. It was so cold I would have to put eight blankets on my bed just to sleep comfortably. I remember a few times I would wake up in the middle of the night and be able to see my breath against the black of the night. It was as though I was sleeping outside. This is in Auckland, in spring, so it shouldn't have been that cold.
I'd wake up in the morning to find water running down the walls. Originally, I thought this was just condensation. My mirror on my dressing table would be fogged up as well. I thought it was due to the house being old and cold. Eventually, I started to notice that the rest of the house was fine. I pretty much ignored it, and thought nothing of it, going on with my business as per usual.
I became friends with a girl from work and we started heading out in the weekends. I'd come home from a night out, late (or early) in the morning, and I'd just get the strangest feeling when I walked into the front door. Everyone would be in bed, as they were students and early nights were a common thing, so nobody was up. When I walked into the lounge to head to the stairs, I always felt like someone was watching me. It was the creepiest feeling. I would always run to the stairs and quickly jump into bed, as if this would make the feeling go away. I would never get up in the night and use the bathroom, just so I didn't have to go downstairs and pass through the lounge.
I thought it was just my paranoia. Feeling alone and distant from friends and family might have made me feel vulnerable. I would ignore it and put it down to that, until I caught up with an old school friend.
We had arranged for her to stay over the night. We made some dinner, watched some DVDs, and then started to get ready for bed. My friend wears contacts everyday, so she went to the bathroom to remove her lenses, and I went to my room. After a few minutes, she ran up the stairs and told me that she saw something. While in the bathroom, she took one contact out and put it in its case. She looked up into the mirror to take out the other one and saw in the reflection a black dog walking down the hallway, past the bathroom. She freaked out. There were no pets at the house, as my flat mate was allergic to cat and dog fur. We shrugged it off, I told her it would be because she took her contact out and was seeing things, but to this day she is adamant that she saw a dog.
Nothing else too drastic happened. The room I was in was painted all white, so I decided to decorate it by putting up some posters. I would often wake up with several of the posters scattered on my bed. I'd put them back up, and the next night the same thing would happen. Eventually, I gave up and took them down.
For a few months, that was the about it for weird things that happened. But one night, my flat mates were out. One was working his usual night shift at the airbase, the other had moved out and I was home alone. I decided to go to bed early and have a good night's sleep. I was working eleven hour days to earn something decent to make the, so I was pretty tired.
I tucked myself into bed and fell asleep. I had a dream, at least, I think it was a dream. I was in bed, in exactly the same position I had gone to bed in that night. I knew, in the dream, it was then and there. In this dream, there was someone standing at my door. I remember him clearly. I'd never seen him before. I opened my eyes and didn't move, seeing as there was a stranger in my room, I didn't want him to notice me. He walked around my bed and went to my dressing table.
I had a picture of my dad shoved between the mirror and the frame. It was pretty much all I had of my family, so I kept it where I could see it. In the dream, this guy pulled the picture out and was staring at it. At this point in the dream, I sat up in bed with a huge gasp. The guy spun around, dropping the photo on the ground. That was the end of it. I woke up and felt a little eerie. I looked around the room, and not noticing anything out of whack, went back to sleep.
In the morning, I was getting ready for work in front of the mirror and I noticed my picture wasn't there anymore. I looked around and found it on the floor, at least a meter away from the dresser! No wind could've blown it. Due to it always being cold in the room, I always had the windows closed.
I moved out about a month later. And pretty much two days after moving out, I wasn't sick anymore. I was completely free of sickness again. Since moving, I haven't had any other weird happenings like that.
I have no idea whether that was something, the house being haunted or what. I just no it was weird and since then, nothing has happened. And I'd also like to know who the guy was. He was so clear and so vivid. It's five years on and I still remember that 'dream' like it was yesterday.
If anyone has anything comments, I'd be glad to hear what you think. Thanks for reading my story.