I Never Saw Him Again
My first house growing up always gave me the creeps. I was very young, but I remember it well. I hated nap time and being in my room because it gave me the willies.
I felt fine everywhere else in the house, but I didn’t even like playing by myself in my room and would often hear “breathing” in my ears, similar to when you can hear blood pumping in your ears.
I somehow convinced my parents to let me sleep with an inflatable alligator pool floaty because I thought it would “protect me from the ghosts”.
One night, I was waiting to go to sleep with my gator when in the dark, I saw a figure of a man in the middle of my bedroom. He looked like my grandpa—who was alive at the time—had clothes that looked like they were from the 30s/40s.
He was just silently raking my bedroom carpet with one of those longish metal rakes. He did that for a few minutes, then vanished. I wasn’t scared when I saw him, and after that, I wasn’t scared of my house anymore. I also never saw him again. Story credit: Reddit / martashirt