A boy that used to go to my school had committed suicide just this school year. He had been with my class for about 7 years and switched schools the year he killed himself. For safety purposes, his name will be changed, as will everyone else's in the story. A week after he committed suicide me and a friend of mine, Tori, had gotten together for a sleepover. She had known Cameron, the boy that had committed suicide, and asked me to go to the funeral with her that night before the sleepover. Well, knowing me, I declined, I had already been to one of my classmate's funeral that year and was not about to go to another one.
Funerals were never my thing and when I told Tori no, she decided to stay home from the funeral as well. We sat at her house, in broad daylight, talking about the usual gossip and what-not. She got a serious look on her face in the middle of the conversation and told me then, "You know, my house is haunted." It sent chills down my spine knowing that I was now stuck at a haunted house for the night. Then again, I figured it could just be Tori trying to scare me. So I asked for proof from her. She told me that her and her family were sitting on the couches one night watching a movie when all the doors in the house slammed shut and everything hanging up on the walls fell down.
It was only one incident and I told that to her out loud. She shook her head and said as serious as ever, "We'll see. Maybe it'll come out just for you." Another chill went down my back and I quickly changed the subject to prevent myself from thinking about it too much. Soon we decided on watching a movie and as I got up to go I stepped on a nail on her floor. Luckily it just hurt, no puncture wounds were made, and I set the nail on her windowsill while Tori apologized profusely for leaving such a thing on her floor.
Not long after that we were settled in watching a scary movie (still in daylight). As we sat there I tipped my head to the side and caught out of the corner of my eye movement. I turned to get a better look when I saw the rocking chair next to us moving. I waited until it stopped and tried to recreate the scene. Stomping about didn't do it, neither did plopping down in the couch next to it. The only thing that did work was me sitting in the chair and rocking it.
Tori asked me what I was doing as she was multitasking between the movie and texting at the time and was unable to notice the rocking chair moving by itself. I told her and she dragged me into her room, afraid of what had just happened. I was naturally fine by it, able to brush it off like most things and move on. That was when I went over to the window and looked out it to clear my thoughts. All I needed was some time to think about other things and the rocking chair incident would be all behind me.
Of course I set my elbows on the windowsill, of course I set an elbow on the nail I had set up there earlier, and of course I jumped back in surprise. But not from the nail, but from the message. Etched into the wood on her windowsill were the words RIP CAMERON. "Did you touch the nail?" I asked her, knowing the answer would obviously be no since Tori was with me the whole time. "No, did you?" "Of course not!" "Well you know what that means..." Yes, I did. Her house really was haunted. The rest of the night was spirit-free; it was if the spirit wanted to make itself known and let us know that it meant no harm. It makes me sad to think about the experience, after all, I've never heard of a spirit feeling remorse for another. Thanks for reading.