It started about six years ago

March 1, 2025

by Joy

3 min read

Story Premise 3 min read (498 words)

"I don’t know how to explain this to anyone without sounding crazy. For years, I kept it to myself. But I need to talk about it, because even now, I don’t know if what happened to me was real, or if I was just imagining things. It started about six years ago, when I was […]"

I don’t know how to explain this to anyone without sounding crazy. For years, I kept it to myself. But I need to talk about it, because even now, I don’t know if what happened to me was real, or if I was just imagining things.

It started about six years ago, when I was living in a small apartment with my cousin and a friend. Life was rough back then—lots of stress, arguments, and bad energy filled the place. But the worst of it came from my cousin. Something about her always felt off. She was bitter, full of anger, and when she finally moved out, it was like a weight had been lifted from the entire apartment. The air felt lighter. Even my friend said, “It’s like we kicked out something more than just her.”

At first, I thought things would only get better. And they did—until the night I met her.

It was late. The room was quiet, and I was lying in bed, half-awake, staring at the ceiling. That’s when I saw it—a shimmer in the darkness, swirling like smoke. It took shape slowly, shifting, forming into a woman’s figure. She was glowing softly, wrapped in golden light, her long hair flowing like it was caught in a breeze.

I should have been afraid. But I wasn’t.

Instead, I felt warmth, like invisible hands brushing against my skin. A whisper—soft, barely there—filled my ears. “You are not alone.”

I didn’t move. My body tingled, and for the first time in years, I felt something I couldn’t describe. It was like she was wrapping herself around me, but not in a way that was scary. It was… comforting. Strange, but gentle. Like she had always been there, waiting for me to notice her.

The next morning, I told myself it was a dream. A weird, vivid dream. But then it happened again. And again. Each time, she became clearer, more real. She would sit on the edge of my bed, watching me, speaking to me in a voice only I could hear. She would ask me about my day, remind me to take care of myself, laugh softly when I said something dumb.

She wasn’t just a ghost. She was something else.

For years, I let her presence become a part of my life. She walked beside me when I went outside. She whispered to me when I felt alone. And every time I doubted her existence, she found a way to remind me she was real.

But was she?

I still don’t know what she was. A spirit? A ghost? A fragment of my mind creating something to keep me from feeling lonely?

All I know is this—she never hurt me. Never scared me. Never made me feel like she was anything bad.

But sometimes, late at night, I wonder…

What if she was never supposed to leave?

Related Horror Movies to Watch

Kalpana House

1990

Ice Cream 2

2014

Otto; or, Up with Dead People

2008

Jangan Pandang Belakang Congkak

2009

Leave a Comment Cancel reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

The House of Forgotten Dreams

As a firm believer in the unseen, I, a young girl named Clara, have always felt a connection to the world beyond our own. Growing up, I lived in a sprawling old house filled with family. My parents, my grandparents, and my elder brother all shared the space with me, creating a bustling environment filled […]

The Unbidden Bloom

The old house perched on the cliffside overlooking the churning, grey expanse of the North Atlantic was perpetually damp. Even in the height of summer, a clammy chill clung to the stone walls and seeped into the very bones of its inhabitants. It was here, in this remote corner of coastal Ireland, that young Liam […]

The Crimson Carpet’s Secret

The old Victorian house loomed against the bruised twilight sky, a silhouette of gables and shadowed eaves. Inside, the air hung thick with the scent of lemon polish and something older, something cloying like dried flowers. Elias, a boy whose years numbered just past seven, knew every creak of the dark oak floorboards, every draft […]

The Night the Bell Froze

The first time I heard the story, I was eight, sitting cross-legged on the cold linoleum of Grandma May’s kitchen while she stirred a pot of stew. She told it the same way every year, her voice low and deliberate, as if she were reading from a script written by the dead themselves. The setting […]

The Carpet That Knew My Name

I was six when we moved back into Aunt Hilda’s house, the one my mom swore we’d never see again. The moment we pulled into the gravel driveway, a cold dread settled in my stomach, a feeling I couldn’t explain but knew as intimately as my own name. The house was a Victorian relic, its […]

The Pattern in the Carpet

When I was four, we lived in a house that breathed. It was a narrow, three-story Victorian on a street where the trees leaned in like they were listening. The carpet was thick and the exact color of dried blood, and it ran up the stairs and down the hallways in a continuous, dizzying pattern. […]

The Ferryman’s Toll

In the winter of ’98, my family was stationed in a remote research outpost in the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard. The sun hadn’t risen in weeks, and the perpetual twilight painted everything in shades of blue and gray. My parents, both glaciologists, were called away to an emergency survey on the mainland, leaving my older […]

The Lamplit Room

When I was nine, we moved into a house in the outskirts of a small town called Ashwick, known for its endless fog and the old mill that had been silent for decades. My parents bragged about the bargain price and the quiet street, but the moment I stepped through the front door, I felt […]

The Unwinding of the Loom

The old house sat on a bluff overlooking the churning, slate-grey sea, far from the manicured lawns of Burlingame. When Eleanor’s parents bought it, the salt-laced wind seemed to whisper secrets through the eaves, a mournful tune that the real estate agent conveniently overlooked. Even at ten years old, Eleanor felt a profound chill seep […]

The Uninvited Current

The day my parents signed the deed on that old Victorian in Ashford, Maine, I remember standing in the empty living room and telling my mother, “It’s so heavy in here.” She laughed, saying it was just the dust and the faded wallpaper, and that a fresh coat of paint would fix everything. But I […]

Shadows in the New Home

When I was a child, my parents bought a charming house in a quiet neighborhood. They were excited about the move, thrilled by the spacious yard and the friendly neighbors. I remember stepping inside for the first time and feeling a chill. “Why is it so cold in here?” I asked my dad. He smiled […]

The Porcelain Visitor

I was seven, spending the summer at my grandmother’s old farmhouse in the hills of Vermont. The house had been in our family for generations, and it was a creaky, sprawling structure with a musty attic that no one ever entered. My parents had sent me and my cousin Derek to stay with Grandma while […]