The House on Mill Road

My family moved into a stone house on Mill Road that was over a century old. It had stood empty for a decade before we arrived. My father spent two years repairing the roof and walls before we could live there properly.

The original layout was simple, with two small bedrooms upstairs. You had to walk through the first to reach the second. My father built a new bedroom for me at the back of the house and a small hallway so all the rooms had their own doors.

My parents took the front bedroom, the middle room was for guests, and I had the new room. One summer, my uncle and his son visited from overseas. My uncle stayed in the guest room, and his son shared my room, sleeping on a cot.

Late one night, after the house was dark and quiet, my cousin woke up. He felt a presence near the window. He saw the shape of a man standing silently, looking out into the night. The figure did not move or make a sound, but my cousin was too frightened to speak. He pulled the covers over his head and lay perfectly still until morning.