It happened just this morning. I was deep in sleep when I started dreaming of a strange woman—her skin pale, her eyes dark like empty holes. She wasn’t someone I knew, but she felt… familiar, as if she had been near me before. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pressure in my chest, like something was twisting inside me. I couldn’t breathe. It was as if she was reaching into me, searching for something. I woke up gasping. My hands clutched my chest, but nothing was missing. Yet, I knew—she had tried to take something. Maybe my soul.
She didn’t belong to this house. She was a wanderer, moving from place to place, looking for something—or someone—to take. This morning, she chose me. Even after I was awake, the feeling of being touched from the inside stayed with me. It took hours before I felt normal again.
That wasn’t the first time I saw something I couldn’t explain.
One night, just before falling asleep, I had the sudden urge to open my eyes. I don’t know why, but I did. And there he was—a man sitting in the old wooden chair near my bed. His clothes were worn, his hands resting on his knees. His eyes met mine, and for a second, we just stared at each other. I blinked, and he was gone. But I knew he was still there, watching. I had felt him before, always in the basement, always just beyond sight. But that night, he let me see him.
The first time I ever saw a ghost, I was just a little kid—maybe four or five years old. I was sitting on the couch in the dark, my legs too short to touch the floor. Something made me turn toward the kitchen doorway. That’s when I saw her.
She wasn’t glowing, but somehow, I could see her clearly. A woman in a long, flowing white dress, standing still, watching me. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stared. I was too young to understand fear the way I do now, but I knew—even then—that she wasn’t alive.
Years later, I learned a woman had died in this house, long before we moved in. A heart attack, they said. But sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I feel eyes on me. And I know—she never really left.