The Haunting

Easter

Of course, on Easter, the day we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, I'd have an entity walking around the upstairs of my house.

As I always did the night before a big holiday - i.e. a holiday where my sister and I would get up and get presents, or in this case, an Easter basket - I would sleep in her room with her, and she got the joy of being the first one I would wake up.

Although, really I have to say she usually woke up on her own, not long after I did. We would then watch t.v. or talk until we were finally able to wake up our parents.

This morning was different though.

I had woken up really early, and had about an hour and a half before I was able to wake anyone. At first, I kept trying to wiggle around and wake my sister up, without seeming as if that was what I was trying to do.

But I wasn't having any luck.

So instead, I decided to put on morning cartoons. While I was laying in her bed, the remote fell to the floor.

About ten or fifteen minutes later, the tv shut off.

I reached down and just tapped the button to turn it back on, not even thinking about picking it back up, since I didn't really need it.

A little while later, again, the t.v. turned off.

This time, I looked over the side of the bed and just stared at the remote.

But I couldn't find the courage to reach back down. A chill went up my spine and all I could think about was something was down there, pressing the button to turn it off.

It was ridiculous, but in my adolescent mind, it made perfect sense - especially considering all the other strange occurrences that happened there.

Now, I had nothing to do but wait for someone to wake up, as I sure as hell wasn't going to get out of bed.

I laid back down, willing someone to wake up so I wouldn't be alone anymore.

The silence was deafening.

Then, to my relief, I heard someone go down the hall. I didn't see anyone, but when I heard the bathroom door close I figured I just hadn't looked out the bedroom door in time to see whoever it was.

I sat up, eagerly awaiting whoever it was.

A minute or so passed by, and I heard the sound of the toilet. Then, the water was running and even the squeak of the towel rack where the hand towel was kept.

When the bathroom door opened, I was ready to ask if we could all get up now, that I didn't want to stay in bed any longer. I needed to have my dad check under my sister's bed, just to make sure nothing was there, waiting to grab me the second my foot touched the floor.

Only, no one came out of the bathroom.

I sat there, shaking, and continued to wait.

Nothing.

"Mom? Dad?" I croaked out in my tiny voice.

Silence.

That's when the tears came. I couldn't take it anymore as all the fear came bursting out of me.

Thankfully, a few minutes later, I heard the sound of my parents' bed creaking and someone coming down the hall.

But after what I had just experienced, I waited there, on my sister's bed, staring out the door, as I held my breath.

I couldn't get too hopeful that this was actually one of my parents this time.

To my relief, I saw my mom a few moments later.

I asked her if she had just been in the bathroom a few minutes earlier, and she said no. When I asked if my dad had been, I got the same reply.

A part of me had been hoping that I somehow just missed whoever it was and that it wasn't something unexplainable.

She asked me what was wrong, and I told her. She came in and made sure everything was alright and had me wake up my sister, and we then waited for her and my dad at the top of the stairs.

I still slept in my sister's room the night before holidays, and even sometimes when I was scared, but it was always filled with apprehension. No longer did I feel any semblance of safety from within her walls.

I wasn't safe anywhere.

There was always something there in that house, watching me, waiting for me.

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