This house is haunted.

 

To be fair, I half expected it would be when I moved in, but no one is ever fully prepared to live with a ghost. I consider myself fortunate to have knowledge on these entities and how to deal with them to a degree. For the time being, I see no point in going such extreme measures given that it has not harmed me. Perhaps them? It�s hard to tell at this time.

 

To be blunt, the first few nights that I spent in this house were horrible, but for the reasons that one would expect of a new house. There is a certain adjustment period one most endure before a house can truly become a home. It�s a time to adapt and embrace the full feeling of a house, including every strange sound one hears at night and the overall atmosphere.

 

In my case, it had been the phantom footfalls in the upper corridor. They were so very distinct in the way they struck the wood floor that no conceivable argument of mine could really hold up. I had to come to terms with the terrifying notion that there was someone in my house. Even with a history such as mine, there�s still a very primal sense of fear that grips the heart when being stirred from sleep by an intruder. At least, I thought it was an intruder at first, and I readied myself to blast the midnight trespasser if it came in my room.

 

The footsteps found a stopping point outside of my door and there suddenly no other noises. No rustling trees outside the windows, the rain had gone quiet, the house did not groan against the wind. A chill crept in as the hinges on the door creaked its way open and settled over me. No amount of blankets could have warded off the cold as it sank into my bones, but there was nothing quite so paralyzing as its gaze.

 

I could feel the eyes upon me, boring into me as if to say �how dare you�. It was not an angry feeling that overwhelmed me, but as if the presence had been mildly irritated. The kind of reaction a person would expect when barging into some place unannounced, but it had me frozen in place for some time. Most importantly, I refused to look at whatever was waiting in my door for the duration of its stay.

 

Needless to say, I did not sleep the rest of that night and had to take naps between bouts of cleaning the following day.

 

When the night had fallen upon my homestead and I retired, the footfalls once again moved at a leisurely pace down the corridor. Like the previous night, they stopped at my door and, again, the door slowly creaked open for some entity to stare at me. While it was just as frightening as the night before, the mild irritation had downgraded to a state of �oh, you�re still here�.

 

This occurrence went on for four nights in total, and each night the entity seemed less and less annoyed by my presence. I attribute this to the fact that I had been thoroughly cleaning their home and making repairs to restore its former glory.

 

On the fifth night, I mustered the gall to sit up in my bed and stare at the open door way. As one would expect, there was nothing to be seen, but I knew it was there.

 

�I�ll likely be here for a long time.� I had stated very plainly to the entity. �There is the possibility that I will have guests, but that occurrence will no doubt be rare. I believe it will be just you and me� nearly all of the time. If you wouldn�t mind terribly, I kindly ask that you respect my privacy. I am a lady after all, and it�s hardly appropriate to have someone looking in on me in my under garments.�

 

To my great surprise, my bedroom door closed gently before the foot steps continued on to another room before they ceased all together.

 

Last night, I was not awakened by any sort of foot step and my door remained closed. Albeit, there was a moment when I stood outside my bedroom and felt a chill like an icy breeze brush against me. It did not remain long, and as it passed, I swear I heard someone say �good night�.

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Author Esreiella
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