The first day I moved into my new house was amazing. I had been living with my parents, and I had never felt better that I did to move into my own place. After the house movers had left I had some washing up to do. While doing that chore I heard footsteps from the hallway. These steps went halfway up the stairs and stopped. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand to attention. I felt this sudden feeling of dread and it was really uncomfortable. I checked all four bedrooms and found nothing. The house was silent, but I still had this feeling of dread. I carried on with the washing up trying to forget about it and about half hour later. I mean, I now owned a house, right? What could be more exciting than that?
Two months later I had started getting used to the feeling of dread. I was lying on my bed with my partner. She use to stay over quite often. We were lying on my bed snuggled together. She looked up and suddenly started shaking staring at the ceiling. When I asked her what was wrong she said she saw some kind of smoke appear in the corner of the ceiling and then a face appeared through the ceiling staring at her for a few seconds before vanishing. When I saw her face it had gone completely white. That same feeling of dread came over me like when I heard the footsteps. This feeling of dread seemed more intense. I couldn’t relax at all. My partner left soon after.
I came downstairs one morning for breakfast and saw a small boy in my kitchen. This little boy was wearing dirty black shoes, gray knee length socks that where down by his ankles in a way that looked scruffy, a pair of dirty black shorts, a gray t-shirt and a gray scruffy cap and that the boy was very thin. My partner, who was staying over again, said that she had seen him too. We started to talk about what was happening, and she said that she had seen other things while staying over, and asked if I had seen anything else. I told her I hadn’t but I did explain the feeling of dread to her, and I told her about the footsteps. She mentioned that soon after I’d moved in she’d gone for a cigarette by the open kitchen door which lead to the garden. After about a minute she felt someone grip her shoulder but when she turned to there was no one there as we were all in the front room. She said she always felt like someone was staring at her in the house.
After our conversation the male presence became much stronger. It was almost as though it now knew that we had noticed it. During the day the house was filled with more dread. Even if the sun was shining outside, the house would be dark. It was almost as though the presence in that house was blocking out the sunlight. On the hottest day of the year I had to have to lights on downstairs in order to read a book. At night I kept the door to my room closed and I could feel this male presence angrily walking around the house especially walking passed my room. I could feel him stopping outside my room and staring at me. As if the door wasn’t there, as if he knew exactly where my head was and where I was sitting. This happened every night. Some nights this male would spend the entire night just staring at me through the door. Those where the times I’d have an early night and want to go to sleep as fast as possible. When my partner stayed over, she’d go down stairs during the night to use the toilet and find the living room and kitchen lights on. Knowing that all lights had been turned off before we’d gone to bed. Sometimes just the kitchen light or the backroom light or the front room light would be on. One time the kitchen lights came on by themselves as she walked to the light switch to switch it on. Another time she went downstairs to the toilet and she screamed. I ran down stairs to find her sitting on the bottom step. She told me she opened the door to see the kitchen light flicking on and off with a huge black shape in the middle. I went to check it out, and found the light on, but no dark shape.
That male presence in the house didn’t like me at all. I felt that this spirit was unable to approach me but found some pleasure in wearing me down physically. For what purpose I don’t know. I’ve never gone back to that house. I just feel bad for that little boy. Soon after the toilet incident I moved to another house with my partner and we don’t intend to go back.
© 2016, G. Michael Vasey & My Haunted Life Too. All rights reserved.