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More than just a Shadow


Welcome back once again to Life of the Haunted.


Last time, I covered some of the history of my first childhood home, and the horrifying shadow man I would catch creeping around the property. As awful as it was to catch him lurking, especially in my room in the middle of the night, I always wish it had stayed that way. A silent figure, watching your every move and setting your nerves on edge. Of course, things don’t always work out that way. My shadowy friend had other plans in mind.


I can distinctly recall a memory from when I was probably around the age of 5 or 6. My mother and I were home alone, and from what I remember, she was helping me get ready for school. Though when I called and spoke to her about this the other day, she said she can’t clearly say what we were doing. So, for now, I’ll be speaking about my decades old memory.


What comes back to me is we were standing in the hall as though it was just any other day. Suddenly, from above us, in the attic that only held our rarely touched storage, came the sound of pounding footsteps. It was almost as though the person frantically making their way across the room above us was wearing heavy boots. My mother and I could do nothing more than stare at each other. Our glances had a silent message in them. “You hear that too, right?”


You could follow the person’s exact movements as they made their way across the entirety of the house. Keep in mind, to reach the attic, we had one of the basic drop down ladders at the end of the hall, which I'm pretty sure was just above where mom and I were standing. So, if it was a person, they'd been up there for some time. After what felt like years, the pounding sounds stopped, and mom called my dad, explaining the situation. He thought nothing of it, and to be honest, he never really thought much of anything weird that happened over the years.


Surprisingly, this time, when my father agreed to check the attic when he got home, mom and I stayed at the house. Both of us were on edge. The next thing I recall is my father standing at the top of the ladder, the upper half of his body disappearing into the void of the attic. The whole time, my child's mind was concerned that the monster in the attic was going to drag him into the darkness. Relief flooded me as my dad came back down the ladder, safe from the creature in the attic. To our dismay though, he said there was nothing up there. No human or animal. Not even a trace. Though, for an animal to make noises as loud as we heard, it'd have to be at least 50 pounds.


For the longest time after that, my imagination ran wild. I was constantly thinking of what kind of horrid monster was living in the space above my room.


Now, I'd like to take a break from delving into dark recesses of my memories and cover some shorter stories that occurred to people who came to visit that horrid house.


These stories come from my mother who was surprisingly eager to tell her experiences.


She had a friend who, for the sake of the story, we'll call Nicole. Nicole was a smoker, and she was just hanging out for the evening. My mother told me Nicole had stepped outside onto the small back porch to have a smoke. You could see anyone on the porch through the large sliding glass door. Nicole, who had been outside, completely alone, suddenly put out her cigarette and quickly shuffled back through the door into the dining room. She was white as a ghost and told my mom that someone had shushed her. Like someone had leaned in close, just beside her ear with a finger to their lips. Needless to say, she probably didn't go back outside alone after that.


Another time, my aunt and uncle were at the house well past midnight. My brother and I weren't there for reason's my mom can't recall. A small tidbit before I get into the story, we had motion activated flood lights at every exterior door to the house. Now, around midnight, my mother and aunt were upstairs and suddenly, there was a loud banging at the front door. Concerned, my mom had my father answer the door because, well, who would be knocking on the door that late at night. Barely any time had passed between them hearing the banging and my father opening the door. Definitely not enough time for the motion lights to turn back off or for the person to have disappeared. Sure enough, when dad answered the door, there was nobody there and the yard was dark. None of the lights had been activated.


Knowing I wasn't alone in experiencing such things gives me slight solace, but not much. Especially considering things like this still happen to this day.


That's all I have for this time, but next time, I'll be back with more of my own personal horrors that revolve around my shadowy friend.


Until then,


Stay spooky


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