I have never put much thought into the stories people tell about the unseen. I am a practical person, focused on the world I can touch and see. But what happened in the house on Elm Street is true, and I feel I should tell it.
It began over several days in late autumn. One evening, while using a talking board with my family, we made contact with a presence that claimed to be a young girl. She said she had passed away in our very home long ago and that her family had placed her in the old cistern behind the house.
Curiosity got the better of me. I went out into the cold night to look at the cistern. It was mostly filled in, not very deep at all. I peered inside but saw only darkness and stones. I went back to the others and told them I had found nothing. Everyone in the house was gathered there, waiting.