When my Father left our family, my Mom moved my brother, Chuckie, and myself to an old farmhouse as far away from town as we could get and afford. Since she had always depended on the joint income between my Dad and herself, she had to begin a second job that required her to travel several miles a day. Then when she got home she could take a four hour nap only to wake up and go work the night shift as a nurse at the local hospital. Her life was tough enough, so I never told her about how scared I was in our new house. I don't say "home" because it never really felt like it belonged to us.
Anyway, as I said Mom was gone a lot. Chuckie, my brother was always in charge and at 16 years old the last thing he ever wanted to do was take care of his baby sister. So mostly he and his friends would lock themselves in his room (doing only God knows what) and I would have to find ways to entertain myself. At 13 years old this isn't hard to do. During the day everything was fine because I never spent much time indoors, I always played outside with my dog or I'd climb trees etc. It was nighttime that was so troublesome to me.
The first time anything happened to me was on a night that my Mom wasn't home. It was only Chuckie and I. He had told me to go to bed, and I fell asleep shortly after. A few hours later I woke up to the sound of someone laughing softly. I thought it was my brother so I tip-toed out of my room to spy on him wondering what was so funny. Upon looking in his room I could clearly tell he was asleep, mainly because he was the loudest snorer in the tri-county area. I then thought that perhaps I had dreamed it. So I started walking back to my own room.
"Don't go in there!" some whispered. It wasn't a soft whisper though, although it was barely audible I could tell that it was irritated and very serious. Was someone in my house?
"Who said that?" I demanded, which was "big talk" for a 13 year old girl. There was no reply though. I stood in the doorway of my room hesitant to go in, even though I was sure that I was just very sleepy and imagining things. So, after a few seconds I walked back to my bed and got in, pulling the covers up over my head. I heard nothing, so I started to drift back to sleep all the while telling myself that I was stupid for being so scared. That's when I heard it again.
"Elizabeth," someone said my entire name. It didn't really have any tone to it, maybe the voice sounded a little concerned but I couldn't be sure. At that point I threw the covers back and sat straight up in bed. Now I'll never know who it was, but just as I sat up I saw someone at my door, then I blinked and upon reopening my eyes there was nothing. I'd had it. I jumped out of bed and practically ran to my brother's room turning on every light I passed.
"Chuckie, please wake up, please!" I was pleading. He rolled over and opened his eyes looking extremely irritated.
"What do you want sis?" he yawned. I couldn't think of anything to say that was logical so I settled for the truth.
"Either there is someone in this house or this place is haunted," I scrambled out the words and he didn't look convinced. That was until about seven seconds later when we both heard a loud banging noise coming from the living room. Chuck said something not so nice, and jumped out of his bed lunging for his hunting equipment. He pulled a shotgun out of its case and made sure it was loaded. He tossed me his cordless telephone.
"I want you to hide in my closet and call Dad if I yell at you, okay?" he said.
"Chuckie, I don't think that-" he cut me off.
"Please just do it," he yelled. So I got in his closet and he turned off the lights and started through the house with his gun. I knew he wouldn't find anything, or anyone in our house. Whatever was making those noises was clearly in my room, but there had been no one there. The voice had been unfamiliar, and completely invisible. I wasn't going to call our Father (he was the Chief of Police at that time) because there was nothing anyone could've done. Eventually Chuckie came back completely flabbergasted.
"I just don't get it, all the doors and windows are locked up tight, there is not one single sign of anyone forcefully entering at all so where the hell did that noise come from?" he asked me.
"I don't know but it started in my room," I explained. I told him about someone laughing and telling me not to go back into my room, and I told him about someone standing at my doorway. He believed me, but we both decided to keep it a secret. We didn't want to burden our Mother or make her feel guilty that we were scared to be alone in the house. I think that we both thought foolishly that it was over, that maybe that night was just a fluke.