The horror on harbor lights drive

11 September 2018 | Haunted houses, Your Stories, Your True Encounters

Let me start off by saying this story is mostly true. I say mostly because memory is a tricky thing. I know what I am about to tell you happened to me. Little details here and there may be off, but for the most part this did happen to me. That’s the biggest problem with repressed memories, they aren’t as clear as regular ones, but they are memories none the less. They say when your mind can not handle a traumatic event, as a defense mechanism it will forcibly forget the memory of it occurring to help you cope with day to day life. Kind of scary isn’t it? Who knows what you’ve seen, what you been through, that you own mind decided you couldn’t handle, and then buried it so far down you could never retrieve it. That could have been me, but lucky for you supernatural enthusiasts I did something my brain couldn’t account for.

One day, back in around 2008 or so, when myspace was still a big thing, I was going through old messages and deleting them. Messaging on Myspace was more like emails than the instant message threads we are used to today. So everytime you messaged someone and they messaged back, it made a whole new thread with every message you had before it. So I would often keep the most recent thread and delete the ones leading up to it. One thread caught my eye. The threads were titled with subjects, just like emails. This particular one had a subject title I didn’t remember writing. Something a long the lines of “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED TO ME.” I opened the thread and read a story I had written to my friend. As I was reading it a flood a horrifying memories came back to me. I was left speechless at the fact that I could some how forget.

So let’s back up a little bit, back to when I moved into that house. I was in elementary school, and made friends very quickly. Being a bit of a home body I would always invite my friends over. I began to realize by the time late middle school, that my friends wouldn’t want to come around anymore. I probably would of thought it was me if they didn’t always invite me over to do stuff at their place, or public places, but never my house. Rumor around school was that my house was haunted. Friends seeing translucent women in white in my kitchen, to disembodied faces watching them as they slept, to hearing noises and seeing shadows of men in the backyard. I dismissed the rumors. After all, I lived there, I would know if it was haunted. Being a bit of a skeptic, I would brush off what they were saying as them seeing things, or maybe just flat out lying to be a part of the rumors. I have come to believe now that this was it’s tactic. Scare off my friends, so it could have me alone. Make me question my own sanity. Anyway, after my friends stopped coming around, it made it’s presence known to me.

It started small. I would hear a crash in the restroom. When would go to investigate, all the shampoos and conditioner would be in the tub. The skeptic in me chalked it up to cats messing around. Soon I would see small shadows following me. Now to understand how I would see them follow me, you have to understand the set up of my old home. As soon as you as walk in there was the stairs leading up to my room. Opposite to the staircase there was a huge, very tall wall. The previous owners covered this entire wall was gigantic mirrors. So when you left my room to go down stairs you could see yourself in the mirrors the entire way down. It became second nature to just watch yourself move around the house thru the mirrors. That is how I would see these small shadowy figures follow me. I paid these things no mind as I thought it to be a trick of the eye. But the more I dismissed the weird happenings, the more intense they became. Sometimes I would get home and my mom would say “oh? You weren’t here? I was yelling at you to stop making so much noise in your room! It sounded like you were moving furniture.” Of course when I would get into my room nothing would be changed. Sometimes my dad would call me out of my room to ask me who was up there with me because he would swear seeing a dark tall man walk from the bathroom upstairs into my room from the mirrors. If that wasn’t creepy enough, my room gained this thick heaviness to it. Almost like the feeling of impeding doom when you were in there too long. I largely ignored this feeling, being a gamer I spent most of my time in my room, as it was where my pc was. That was until one night while tidying up my room and singing. I was purposely singing song lyrics incorrect for fun, when suddenly a voice came from my mouth that wasn’t my own. One that didn’t even sound human. I can’t remember what it sounded like exactly, but I’ll never forget what it said. “I WILL KILL YOUR MOTHER” I stopped sleeping in my room after that.

After a long while of all these things happening I was beginning to think I was going crazy. Three other people lived in that house and I was the only one experiencing anything weird so regularly. It became a daily thing for me to see something fly off a shelf or hear thumping coming from my empty room. But it was only when I was alone. This went on for a while, me not telling anyone because I was sure I was mad, and that if I told anyone they would think I was a liar or insane. I confided to very few people. That’s why the message I had sent on myspace was basically a miracle. It did not tell my friend of anything I have mentioned so far. It told of one single occurrence, one so terrible for me that my own mind thought it better of me to forget it all together.

So since I no longer felt comfortable in my own room, I had taken to sleeping on the couch. The couch sat opposite to the wall of mirrors. Above the couch there was a bar that you could access from the kitchen. I had stayed up a little too late on a school night watching TV. Knowing I would need some sleep I decided to turn off the TV and try. After a few minutes of trying to sleep, I noticed something through my eye lids. I opened my eyes, and to my surprise the bar light was on. I am very light sensitive so I was shocked I hadn’t noticed it before. I got up to go to the kitchen, where the switch to bar light was, to turn it off. I treaded lightly so not to wake up anyone at 2 or 3 am. Despite this my foot steps were echoed by heavy thuds. Every step I made a step I would hear a loud thud behind me. I had my eyes glued to the mirror to see what was making the noise but there was nothing. I would step and pounding footstep would follow shortly after. I got to the kitchen, more than a little unnerved to find that all of the light switches were down. But I was sure the bar light was on, be it just barely. There was a dimmer switch attached so the whole set up was pressure sensitive, so I pushed down the bar light switch and went back to laying down on the couch. The whole time hearing my foot steps being echoed on the way back. I shut my eyes tight, scared. That’s when I noticed again through my eye lids that the bar light was on. I opened my eyes in disbelief. I know I had pushed down the switch. Also I would of noticed if the light was still on as I was traveling back to the couch. I rationalized it as me pushing down the wrong switch, and me not noticing the bar light on cuz I was freaked out about the foot steps. So I got up again, and this time pushed all the switches down. I was damn near running and the echoed thuds hadn’t ceased. But when I got back to the couch the bar light was still on. I made one last run to the kitchen and discovered the switch was somewhat slightly raised. I was so scared, I knew as much rationalization as I could pull out of my ass, nothing could explain what was happening. I turned off the light and headed back to my couch. I decided to put the covers over my head and think of something else until I fell asleep.

As much as I tried, the heavy feeling that I usually only felt in my room was upon me. As much as I told myself to ignore it and go to sleep, that if I looked I would regret it, I decided I had to know. So I peeked from the covers and looked straight up. Above me was the banister from the top of the stairs. I could swear I saw a figure, solid and the deepest black I could imagine, leaning over the banister staring down at me. It slowly retreated out of view, so I turned my head to look at it in the mirror. Even in the darkness I could clearly make out a shadowy figure walking into my room. I was freaked out for sure, but a part of me was thinking “oh, I bet it’s my sister. She had to of heard the noises from earlier and is making sure I am asleep”. My sister is the motherly type, so I wouldn’t put it past her. She would tell on me for anything, so I covered myself back up and tried to pretend I was already sleeping just in case she came to make sure. Moments past and even though I was convincing myself it was my sister, the feeling in the room only got worse. The heaviness only got heavier. So I decided to peek once more. Again, from directly over me, the figure was leaning over the banister looking right at me. I looked at the mirror again, and to my horror, instead of this time disappearing into my room, it started walking down my stairs. Every step it took was a loud thud. The same noise I was hearing earlier. I watched as this figure walked all the way down my stairs. I was still hoping that some how this was my sister and that I was over reacting. So when it got to the bottom of the stairs I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. My sister is a little clumsy, so usually she would turn on the lights, to my ire, when she would get to the living room on her way to the kitchen to get water or what have you. So I decided I would wait until the lights came on and blame her for “waking me up”. I heard the thuds getting closer and closer to me from the stairs. But the lights never came on, before I knew it the foot steps were way to close to me, it would be well past the light switch by now. I heard the thuds until they were right next to me then they just stopped. A new feeling came over me. I knew I was in the presences of something. Something I could only describe as evil. It’s a feeling I had felt once before when the inhuman voice came out of my mouth a few months earlier to threaten my mother. A feeling I wish never to feel again. I knew if I opened my eyes, I would see something awful. But not knowing was just as scary to me… at least that’s what I had thought. Oh, was I in for a surprise.

I opened my eyes to see… nothing. At least not at first. I looked where I thought the foot steps had stopped and saw absolutely nothing. I felt relieved until I looked around and noticed in the mirror the shadowy figure was standing right next to me. I looked at where it should be in reality and nothing. I double took and looked back into the mirror and there it was. Clear as day. Watching me intently. I have no idea why I didn’t scream, but somehow I didn’t. I just quickly hid under the covers and started praying. That upset, what I now believe to be a demon from my research, as it started to try to grab at my thru the covers. I could feel it’s hands, pawing at me, tormenting me, showing me even if I couldn’t see it, It could still physically touch me. I prayed and prayed. I prayed for the protection of me, my family and my house. I prayed that in the lords name the demon would be banished from my home. I prayed for what seemed like hours, but in reality was probably seconds to minutes. Then as quickly as it started, it stopped. The heaviness that plagued me was gone. This aura of tranquility fell upon me and I felt warm and comfortable. I thanked the lord, and somehow, beyond all reason drifted to sleep.

Now this is where it gets super weird. All those memories came flooding back to me but, I have no idea when I wrote that myspace message. I would assume I repressed the memory shortly after it happened so I could sleep and cope. But at some point before that happened I had sent out that message. And after reading the message I realized that nothing had happened since then. Big or small. Whatever was tormenting me was just gone now. And I can’t recall anything happening to me for the rest of my stay in that house. That’s not to say that nothing has happened to me since, but those are stories for another time.

Submitted to Wier Darkness and My Haunted Life Too by Danny Rendon

© 2018, G. Michael Vasey & My Haunted Life Too. All rights reserved.

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