The Haunting

Night Terrors

I feel like this house should have come with a huge warning label.

Sometimes, I think my mom could feel something was wrong there, as she didn't like to be in the dark there. The light in the upstairs hallway always had to be on - she wouldn't let my dad turn it off.

Almost all of the rooms had experiences we couldn't explain - and my bedroom was no exception! A lot of weird things happened in there. Looking back, they could have been night terrors, but I just can't be sure. The only real argument I have against it, would be they didn't always happen after I fell asleep.

The only thing I know, is they scared, and scarred, me. 

One of the most common things was things was the jewelry box I had, which you would open the lid and a ballerina on a spring would pop up and start spinning while music played. But it didn't need anyone to wind it up in the back, or to even open the lid, for it to start playing.

Sometimes it would be the middle of the night, and other times it would be the middle of the day. I guess whatever was in my house had no real sense of decorum to only be active during daylight hours. 

Go figure.

I wish I could tell you that was the worst of it. 

But it gets so much worse.

Almost every night, as I would lay in bed and try to go to sleep, I would see things in my room being distorted, as though looking through a kaleidoscope and twisting. 

Figurines, posters, knick knacks.

All the things I had in my room would appear warped or twisted out of shape. The images in the posters on my walls would look as thought they were moving or talking.

Most of the time I would lay there, powerless and unable to move.

On a few rare occasions, I'd work up the courage to scream, which would bring my parents running down the hall to see what was wrong.

Most of those nights, I'd end up going to their room, and continuing my restless slumber there, as there room was always a source of anxiety for me.

Some might say what I saw was the way the light from the hallway shone into my room, that it was playing tricks on me. But I know better.

If anything, it was something playing tricks on me, but not the light.

Even in my room, I'd tried to hide from the things that refuse to leave me alone.

I would make hiding places, depending on how the furniture was placed in my room at the time. 

For a long time, when I was really small, I'd drag my kitty cat blanket and a flashlight under my bed. I'd just stay really still, and do my best not to be noticed. 

Then, my mom had rearranged things so my bed was diagonal in a corner. So, I took over the space behind the bed in the corner. I'd sit back there and read, or play games.

The best though, was a few years after we moved in, and they build a closet in my bedroom! Well, the downfall during the construction, was someone had left my window open to vent the room, and that night a bat had gotten in! That wasn't fun.

But the end product - the closet - was so big and magical to such a little girl. I made a semi-permanent hiding place in there for me. I had my blanket and a pillow in there, along with a lantern. I'd go in there and hide - even as I got older.

It was my safe place, but only during the day - there was something about it, I couldn't bring myself to go in there at night.

And I'd be stuck with the unthinkable - the swirling, the melting, the silent mouths pleading.

That's something that's stuck with me, even into adulthood.

I can still see things moving in impossible ways.

I hate going to viewings or funerals, because even there, the dead haunt and torment me. It's like I can see them still breathing.

The rise and fall of the chest.

It never stops, not for me.

I mentioned it to my mom once, and she told me to not be silly.

So I've never mentioned it again to anyone, the unimaginable ways the whatever they are continue to poke and prod at my mind.