Monday, November 24, 2008

Old Man

The first time we moved houses was when I was 8. We moved into a rather small three bedroom house that was; get this, about a mile from a graveyard. No big deal right? I thought this was cool and, being eight, I decided to find out if there were ghosts and shit.

I guess the first warning sign I should have had was when the real estate agent told us to stick together in the house because of a 'roach problem'. Naturally, the first thing I did was sneak off and go into the kitchen of the house. It was completely empty—white walls and a few connections.

I don’t know why but I thought ghosts would hide, so I walked through the kitchen and into the hallway and into a bedroom. Christ. There was an old armchair facing a wall. I skipped over too it to see what was up. The chair noiselessly slid across the room.

As it did so, the door to the closet opened, and the chair backed in. I got a quick glance at a grinning, bony old man sitting in the chair. I was now staring into the tilted face of an old, withered man. The skin around his eye-sockets had been torn away and all that was there was black. His lips and teeth were gone, it was black. Yet something about his smile made me want to see him again, I walked towards the closet, and opened it.

The old man jerked forward and grabbed me, I screamed. Instead of touching me, his hand went THROUGH my body and I felt him grab something deep in my chest. My entire body went freezing cold at the touch of his icy fingers in my chest. The man glared through me and his voice rattled as he spoke to me, "I'm hungry", and pulled me towards the closet. The door closed, and at that point, thank god, I forget what happened.

My parents say they came into the room and heard nothing, nothing at all. Then they opened the closet, and at that point, they found me on the ground screaming at the door, clawing at the ground so hard that one of my fingernails came off.

I've been to psychologist and hypnotists, I even spent a month in a mental hospital, but I still have no idea what happened after that door closed. I do have nightmares though. Lots of them.

We didn’t buy the house.

No comments: