Too Scared to Sleep
I am skeptical about the paranormal and always try to find a rational explanation for things. That being said, my childhood home was undoubtedly haunted. The house used to have a couple of apartments. One of the tenants had slaughtered his wife in the house.
He was taken into custody and thrown behind bars for many years for this. My grandparents later moved in, remodeled, and passed it on to my mom when I was born. When my brother was eight and I was 12, we were about to go to sleep when my brother suddenly started crying uncontrollably.
He said he was scared to go to sleep. He looked and sounded genuinely upset when he would typically be very calm. I finally calmed him down, and we fell asleep. A few hours later, he woke up crying again, got out of bed, and woke me up.
As soon as I opened my eyes and sat up, my guitar—that was hanging on the far wall about eight feet away—smashed against my headboard. It was as though someone had lifted it and threw it very, very HARD at my head. We both screamed, but I chalked it up as my fault for hanging it wrong.
However, I knew it could not have lifted and propelled itself forward on its own. I stayed awake the rest of the night, thinking of every possible explanation that could’ve made that happen. I also used to have constant vivid nightmares about a scary woman who seemed to always be in my mom’s walk-in closet.
She would come out at night and hurt my mom. One time she was putting needles into her like a pincushion, and once, she was punching my mom in the face. Another time, she was trying to escape the room to get to my brother and sisters, but because my mom was there, she couldn’t get to us.
It was odd, considering the closet door was just an accordion door. One day, my mom, siblings, and I were downstairs eating lunch when my middle sister came downstairs crying frantically. Her words struck a terrifying chord in me. She said there was something scary in mom’s closet moving the door.
So my mom and I went to check it out. I opened the bedroom door about to go in, watching to see if there was any movement, and nothing happened. So, I started to walk towards the closet door, and it started to move the slightest bit.
I paused, then, all of a sudden, it looked like there was a crowd of people behind that door punching with all their might to get out. The door came off of the tracks on both the top and bottom. The rattling noise was so loud and rapid that it was like a machine gun.
The unfathomable fear I felt made me physically ill. We ran as fast as we could out of that house to the neighbor’s. We had the neighbor go in to check if someone or something was in there.
They checked it out and saw nothing but a beaten-up door off its tracks. We moved about a month later. We had orbs, lights turning on and off, and doors locking and unlocking themselves as well.
A few years later, my mom—a hospice nurse for years—received a patient whose name was eerily familiar to her. It was the man who offed his wife in our house. She cared for him until he passed. The odds were unreal. Story credit: Reddit / BreadyWhyte