Patrolling the Neighborhood
Two weeks before we moved, my dad and I toured our new house. I noticed this guy was painting the water heater, which I thought was weird, but I was about ten, so I didn’t know much. We moved in on a Wednesday, and my parents let me stay home from school until the following Monday.
I was preoccupied with coloring books and a new doll house. In my brand new crayon pack, there wasn’t a blue crayon. It was a 64 pack, but there were only 63 crayons in it. One day, I went downstairs into the basement, and my blue crayon was next to the hot water heater.
Scribbled on there, it said, “Hi—Kevin”. I was so confused. I started school, and that’s when the whole creepy story came out. My new classmates were like, “OMG, do you live in Kevin’s house?! Your house is gonna be haunted”!
It turned out that Kevin was a little eight-year-old boy who lived in our house before us. He got hit by a car in the front yard. If you left out a pen and paper, he would write notes. He would open and close doors, adjust the thermostat, and always turn on Christmas music when it was that time of year.
We had a swing set in the backyard, and even on the hottest, calmest days of summer, only the left swing would be moving back and forth. We had a cat that I would lock in my bedroom at night, and every morning, my parents would open the door, let him out, then close it back up.
One night, I woke up, and the cat was meowing at the door. It woke me up, but the door opened, and the cat hissed and ran out really fast. The next morning, I asked my mom why they didn’t close my door, and they said they didn’t open it. But then there was the time I’ll never forget.
One year, during Christmas break, I was very upset and thought about taking my life. The authorities randomly showed up at my house.
The officer said that he was patrolling our neighborhood and felt like something was wrong at our house. I’m absolutely certain Kevin had something to do with that. Story credit: Reddit