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The original story can be found here.


Please, I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to tell my wife about this, but she’s a science teacher and thanks to my history of practical jokes, she thinks I’m just kidding.

There is something stalking me. I don’t know what it wants, but almost every night since I started seeing it, it has terrorized me. It doesn’t touch me, it doesn’t communicate in any sort of way, it just fills me with horror. If I seem to ramble, please forgive me… I haven’t slept in several days.

We live in the second floor of a duplex with stairs down the back of the house to the basement where the laundry machines are. There’s a door at the bottom of the stairs before the door to the basement that looks out onto our back porch and into the back yard. Six days ago, I was going down to the basement to bring up some laundry and I glanced out the door as I passed. There was a figure standing at the far edge of our yard. Her back was to me, and she was just standing there, looking into the woods beyond our yard. She was dressed in nothing but a light gown. It had lots of flowing material coming off of it that was whipping around in the air slowly. The whole scene creeped me out instantly, but I thought she might be a friend of our downstairs neighbor, so I continued to the basement. When I came back up, she wasn’t there.

The next night, I went down again, and as I passed the back door, I looked outside. The woman was back. She was exactly like she was the night before, facing away, not moving. The hair on my arms and neck stood up straight when I saw her. I was even more creeped out when I realized she was in the same clothes as the night before. That’s when I did something I shouldn’t have… I opened the back door. Leaning out, I called to her to see if she was okay. She didn’t respond. She didn’t make any sort of indication that she’d heard me. It was freezing cold, so I shut the door and locked it. Coming back upstairs afterward, I looked out the window and she was gone again.

Later that same night, I was in the bedroom, getting ready to go to sleep. Everything was dark, because my wife had gone to bed before me. Our bedroom looks out over the backyard, and my side of the bed faces the windows, so I have to go past them to get in. As I was doing so, I suddenly got that same deep dread feeling in my stomach that I had gotten the first time I saw the figure in the backyard. Something compelled me to hesitate by the windows. My hands were shaking as I pulled the curtain back a bit and peeked through the shades into the backyard. It was a clear night, so the backyard wasn’t shrouded in darkness. The woman was standing in the middle of the backyard, no longer at the edge of the woods, facing the house with her head tilted up to look directly at the window I was peeking from. I jerked away instantly, afraid she had seen me. Her face was covered in shadow and hair, but I saw her chin and nose. A sharp nose and a thin chin. Gray. Her skin looks gray, I think. Her hair is black and long. I was so scared, I jumped into bed and covered myself with the covers.

The next day, I played outside in the snow with my four year old daughter. She wanted me to pull her on her sled in the backyard, but just the thought of going back there made me scared again, so I talked her into digging holes in the snow in the front yard. That night, things went from bad to worse. Somehow, I had managed to forget about the woman. Then, in the middle of the night, my daughter started crying. Our bedroom is just across the hall from hers. I thought she might need to use the bathroom or just be having a bad dream, so I went into her room to see if she was okay. She was uncovered, curled into a ball on her mattress. I pulled her covers over her and that’s when she whispered to me.

“Daddy, there’s someone in my closet.”

Instant goose bumps. I turned my head slowly toward the closet door at the end of her bed. Normally, the closet is shut, but now it was open. The woman was standing in my daughter’s closet. Not even when it was clear that I saw her did she move or make a sound, just stood there and looked at me through the cracked-open door. My blood ran cold when I saw her.

“Get up,” I told my daughter, “Get in my arms, quickly. QUICKLY.” she scrambled up and hugged me tightly and I walked backward out of the room, watching the closet the entire time. In my mind I imagined her throwing the closet door open and running at us, arms outstretched. I just hugged my daughter and walked backward into my room. The woman never appeared in the doorway. I heard no movement from my daughter’s room. I tucked her into my bed and stood there watching the doorway to her bedroom. I did not go back in, I just stood there and watched and listened. When I finally got the courage to climb into bed, I didn’t sleep.

Sunday, I told my wife everything. I told her about the first time I saw this woman, I told her about calling out to her and seeing her from the window. I told her that she had appeared in our daughter’s closet. She told me it wasn’t funny, that it was my fault for our daughter’s bad dreams and that I shouldn’t encourage her to be afraid of her closet.

Sunday night, my daughter called to me from her room again. Call me a coward, but I couldn’t go back into that room. I called her quietly to come get in our bed, but she cried and said she was scared. I wanted to go and get her, but I was scared too. I told her to pull her blankets up and cover herself. Just cover yourself, honey, and you’ll be okay. I prayed that it was true. I lay there, peeking over the sleeping form of my wife and out into the hallway at the closed door of my daughter’s room and just kept praying. I heard her cry a while longer, then she went quiet and I hoped that she was asleep.

Monday, I piled toys in front of the door to her closet. By that time, there was no doubt in my mind that this was some sort of ghost or apparition, but I piled things in front of the closet anyway. Like a pile of toys could stop a ghost.

Monday night, my daughter did not cry, but I didn’t sleep. I lay there, looking at the ceiling, tense. Around 2:00, I heard her bedroom door creak open and I knew something was wrong. She must be scared, I thought, so I called to her like before, “Just come to me and you can sleep in our bed, Sweety.” But she didn’t come. I peeked over my wife.

The woman was standing there in the doorway to my daughter’s room. Her arms hung at her sides, her shoulders slouched down. Her gown was dirty, like it hadn’t been washed in years, and hung off her likes torn rags. I wasn’t breathing, I wasn’t blinking, I just looked at her and she looked at me and I thought this is it, I’m going to die. She never moved, never made a sound. I whispered, “Please, go away. Please, leave me alone. Please, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t look away. If I look away, she will get closer. I was sure of it. If I close my eyes, when I open them, she’ll be standing over me, looking at me. At some point, she was gone. It’s like I fell asleep with my eyes open. I don’t remember her disappearing, just that I was looking at the doorway, and she wasn’t there anymore.

Last night, I lay awake, waiting. I asked my wife to shut our bedroom door because the night light in the hallway was keeping me awake. It was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. Like clockwork, I heard my daughter’s bedroom door creak open. I held my breath. Then I heard the floorboards in the hallway creaking and I started shaking uncontrollably. I heard our bedroom door open, and I knew she was standing there, in the doorway, not moving, just looking at me. I didn’t look. I couldn’t. I did what had I told my daughter to do and pulled the covers over my head.

I am a complete mess. A zombie at work. I don’t want to go home anymore. I think I see the woman in other places. A glance while driving and I think she’s sitting in the passenger seat of the truck behind me, or standing down the street as I drive off. Just sitting here at my desk, someone passes by behind me and I jump. I’m afraid that if I turn around, she’ll be there, waiting for me to look at her. And what if I saw her face? I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see her anymore, but I don’t know what to do. The only hope I feel is that, for unrelated reasons, my wife is talking about moving. But our lease isn’t up until May. I don’t know if I can hold out that long.

Part II

I want to thank the people who posted suggestions concerning this… I want to call it a haunting, but for the sake of argument I’ll just call it a stalking. I wish that I had answers to all the questions people asked, but I don’t. Why don’t I confront her? It’s like there is… I don’t know how to describe it… an aura I guess, that seems to surround this thing. I felt it first before looking out the window. Dread. Numbing, sometimes paralyzing dread. And it’s not constant, either. When I saw her in the closet, I wasn’t paralyzed, but I couldn’t move toward her. I couldn’t even move toward my daughter. It was a repulsive sort of feeling, driving me to want to flee while there was this knot in my stomach that seemed to whisper “stay”. These same conflicting feelings freeze me up every time I’ve seen her since. An unnatural desire to go toward her, but an extremely powerful resistance that compels me to stay back. Each time I’ve seen her I feel dizzy, like the bottom has fallen out of my stomach. I tremble. Perhaps it is irrational… fear garnered from years of watching movies that teach us to be afraid of these things, but something deep inside me wrenches like there’s something more. An almost instinctual reaction like pulling your hand away from a fire.

Why don’t I wake up my wife? These occurrences have only started happening recently, and for the most part have had me so terror-stricken that I can’t think when they are happening. The night before last, it was like I couldn’t move. My arm almost fell asleep while I remained propped up, watching her in my daughter’s doorway. I could not look away. Whether it was some sort of mesmerizing effect or I was frozen in fear, I can’t say for certain. It’s like I’m witnessing things happening, but unable to control them or even myself. Thinking about it, I don’t know if I want my wife to see her… because what if she does? I love my wife, and what if this thing harms her because I show it to her? What if she doesn’t? Am I crazy? What does that then say of my daughter who saw her?

It sounds like the consensus is to face her. To be brave, to try to communicate, and to stand up for myself. Maybe I’ll forgo the iPod idea I had and stay up late, as much as the idea makes my skin crawl. Hopefully, I’ll be able to let everyone know tomorrow how things go. Thank you.

Part III

I’m at the office. Please bear with me and be patient for an update because I’ve got to work stuff out before I write about it. I spent the night in the hospital talking to doctors and police, so I’m kind of in a haze. My wife and daughter are okay for the most part. We’ve got a hotel room thanks to my in-laws.

That’s all I can think right now, I’m sorry. I’ve got photos. Not of her. I took some pictures when I got home. Hang on let me link a couple important ones

The view of the backyard

My daughter’s closet

I’ve got a few more but I they need explanation and I’ve got to get water and think. Salt did not help.

Part IV

Where to begin… First thing I did when I got home was go into my daughter’s room and spread a line of salt along the floor of the closet door. Then I thought what if she’s not in there? and went and laid some out on the back door as well. I used my phone to take some pictures, I posted a couple earlier:

Our backyard

My daughter’s closet

I also took this one of our basement

There used to be a door in the back there, but the wood warped from water damage and we had to remove it to get to the fuses about a year ago. Still, it gives me the creeps just being near it. There’s no working light back there. Sometimes as I go up the stairs, it seems like I see something black moving out of the corner of my eye, coming out of that back area, and I run up the stairs and quickly shut and lock it behind me. I’m rambling, sorry.

I was reading my new book when I heard thumping from the ceiling, like someone was walking around in the attic. My wife heard it too, thank God. We keep the attic door shut to keep the cats out because we caught them doing their business in some exposed insulation in one of the attic rooms. Oh God, the cats are still in the house. Nevermind. The attic door was cracked open, so I went up to see if it was one of our cats. The last thing I wanted was a cat spooking the Hell out of me the rest of the night.

This is the back room in our attic. You can see the rolled up insulation in the back there and some of the exposed places in the floor. I was calling for the cats, when I heard like a rap or a tap sound. I’m not going to lie, I wanted to get out of there, shut the door behind me and if it was a cat, let my wife handle it. I had that sense of dread I get every time the woman is about, but I also had an overpowering urge to go into the room and find the source of the noise. I feel so out of control when it happens. It’s freezing up there, but I felt like I was covered in sweat. The tapping was coming from that chimney block. There used to be a fireplace for the first floor, but it got removed and the chimney sealed.

I just want to say that I don’t know if this is in any way related to the woman. I just feel like I should share every detail in case someone sees a connection that I don’t see. I put my ear to the chimney so I could figure out if it was coming from inside or just nearby, and almost instantly I felt like a hammering force from other side of the bricks. My ear stung and I jerked my head away. The side of my head felt wet, so I ran downstairs. My ear was covered in blood. This sounds silly, but I took a photo. My wife got upset when she saw the blood, naturally, but when she checked my ear after I’d cleaned it, she found no injury. She decided, against my pleading, to go up and look for herself. When she came down, she announced that it was NOT blood, but water that had leaked down the side of the chimney from a rusty pipe. I don’t know what it is, all I know was my ear was dry when I first placed it against the chimney. Maybe the hammering loosened a leak in the pipe by the chimney.

I’m sorry, I’ll tell the really bad part when I have time. I apologize for keeping anyone in suspense.

Final Part

I stayed up late watching Law & Order episodes as an excuse to stay up past my wife going to bed. My plan was to stay up all night if need be. I was scared to death, but I wanted this all to end. I’m not a drinking man, but I thought a little alcohol would help calm my nerves and maybe improve my confidence. I didn’t get drunk if that’s what you’re thinking. Just a bottle of Blue Moon that my brother left from last Thanksgiving. Yeah, it was old and it was gross.

I think I fell asleep with my eyes open again, because one second I was watching Law & Order and next thing I knew I was watching an infomercial, because the DVR had ended. She was standing in the far doorway of the dining room, by the hallway to the bedrooms and bathroom. I felt like I was going to throw up, but that may have been the beer. I just sat there. I didn’t think I could move. She didn’t move, or speak, or anything, as usual. I had turned the lights off in most of the house, so it was the TV in front of me and the night light behind her that illuminated everything. We looked at each other, and suddenly I realized she was closer. I didn’t see her move, but she was by the dining room table, still looking at me. I almost choked on my tongue. I felt the blood draining out of my face. Don’t come closer, I thought.

Something different happened then… the TV screen suddenly turned to fuzz, like the cable had been turned off, and underneath the sound of the static was this awful roar, almost animal-like, that tapered off at the same time that this awful scream-like sound picked up. And then almost as quickly as it happened, the TV went black. Whatever I was expecting, it was NOT that. It took all that strength I had been building up inside and just kicked it out the door. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like something was caught in my throat. I prayed. Inside, in my head, please, God, make her go away, please make her leave and then I heard

“You are not welcome here.” I realized I had clenched my eyes shut, and opened them.

“You need to leave, now.” It was me. I was saying it. I wasn’t thinking of saying it, but the words were coming out of my mouth. I stood up and faced her.

“GET. OUT.” and just like that she was gone. The TV was on again. My legs felt like jelly. I took a deep breath to control my shaking.

And then my daughter started screaming.

Now, I read some of the comments, criticizing me for not going to my daughter’s room the second night the woman scared her. It’s easy to say what you would do if you felt your child was threatened. But that night, it was not as simple as I was afraid. I could not go in. Yeah, I was scared. I was scared for myself, I was even more scared for my daughter, but something beyond just fear kept me from going in there. Whatever it was, it wasn’t there when she screamed last night. Whatever power this thing had over me, it was broken when I stood up to it and I think that made it very, very angry.

I ran into my daughter’s room. I didn’t care if I ran headlong into that woman. My wife was up too now, but I beat her to the bedroom. My daughter’s covers were off (she always kicks them off) but more importantly, her night gown was shredded. Oh my god, what have I done? was all I could think, and I grabbed her and bundled her up and got her out of that room. She was covered in scratches… nasty, red, raised scratches. My wife looked like her brain might snap at the sight, but she’s always had a level head, and she was getting antiseptics and cloths almost immediately. I got new clothes and her jacket and snow boots and then held her and rocked her after she was cleaned up while my wife changed from her pajamas and grabbed her car keys. We went straight to the hospital.

I talked with my wife at lunch time, and our daughter seems to be okay, physically. We’re not sure what to do about the house though. She called the owners and told them there are rats hiding, probably in the chimney or attic.

I wish.

The police did a check of the entire house, including our downstairs neighbor’s section. They didn’t contact us to let us know if they’d found anything, but if they’d found someone hiding, I think they would have called to let us know they had so we could feel safe? I don’t know. I’ve never had to deal with this sort of thing before. I’m going to assume they didn’t find anything. They checked under my wife’s and my fingernails. I’m kinda glad they did, because I think my wife was starting to think I had done it.

I came to work because I didn’t know what else TO do. I’ve never been so horrified. You could say this has cured me of my love of horror movies. I’m so tired that I keep falling asleep at my desk, and when I wake up I think it was a dream until reality comes roaring back at me. We’re moving. This cinched it for my wife. Let it stay empty until May. Her father is helping us pay for a temporary place to stay while we hunt for a new house. I just hope that woman is either gone for good, or stays put. My wife had been mentioning there’s a house down the street that’s rent to own, but honestly, that’s too close for me.

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