The Fixer Upper

The first house I bought was a fixer-upper. The story from the neighbors was the lady who owned the house had died in there, old age/dementia. Said she had three kids, one who died there, another whom she was caught locking in the basement, and the other who had nothing to do with her at all. I didn't think much of it, never believed in that crap.

So, I started fixing the place up, replaced all the windows, pulled all the carpet, replaced a few fixtures, proceeded to pick my bedroom, and paint the whole house.

The whole time, I had a eerie feeling in there. I kept felt like I was being watched. Some of the windows didn't have blinds yet, and the light inside was reflecting on the glass so I couldn't see out. So, I thought maybe someone was spying on me, that or those stories the neighbor was telling me was just stuck in my head. I shake it off, get started on my bedroom.

As I start in there, I notice the closet door has a deadbolt on it. I'm like... really? Why would you put a deadlock on the outside of a closet.. and then I pull the door open.

On the inside of the door were scratch marks, that were obviously human. I had considered maybe she abused animals, but then I noticed the 5th scratch mark indicating a thumb on each set of scratches, about 2-4 feet high most of them, the height of a child.

I was appalled. But unfortunately, I was broke and could not afford to replace the door. So being a guy of few means, and I mean seriously I only keep five sets of clothes, six if you count my suit- I decided to just paint the door shut. Like yeah, I don't believe in ghosts, but I don't want to see signs of previous child abuse, either. So moving on- I painted the door, filled in the cracks, painted the rest of the room, filled in the cracks completely, then went to the kitchen. This is about 11 pm.

About 3am I start wrapping up in the kitchen. I was jamming to some alternative rock and the radio started playing static. It'd pop in for a second, then go out for like 1-2 seconds. I tried to mess with it, but was like fuck it, tomorrow i'll bring my iPod and I just turned the thing off.

So I wrap the paint and rollers and junk in plastic, rinse out my brushes- and I start walking around to secure all the windows/doors before I left.

As I walk towards the bathroom, I notice something to my right. I look over into my bedroom, which is only about 8 feet away from where I was standing. The first thing I notice is, for one, the light is off which was on. Second, the door that I had completely painted shut hours ago, now stood completely open, exposing the hideous scratches. The light shown from the hallway onto the door, and to the left in the shadow was something, someone. A figure.

I don't know how to describe the feeling other than sheer panic. I might have even screamed, I don't remember. I fled like a girl- I remember I took off running as fast as I could, fell out the front door. If I didn't have my car keys on me I would have took off running on foot, but thankfully I did. I got in my car, sped off as fast as I could.

The panic feeling didn't stop when I got in my car, which only freaked me out more because in my fear I drove off into the country trying not to slow down to get as far away as possible. I sincerely thought I was going to die.

As I was sure I was going to die going 100MPH around this corner out in the middle of nowhere, I hear all this junk clash around in my trunk- then I remembered I had took some knicknacks out of the basement of that house to try to sell on ebay. I slam on my breaks, pop my trunk, and throw the stuff out of my trunk like a madman- completely alone in the middle of this dark country road at about 3:30am.

As soon as I finish, I get back in my car and take back off. This time it was different, the farther away from the stuff I got, the better I felt- until by time I was almost back to where I was staying and it was gone completely.

I went back to the house the next day just to grab my tools, I was going to sell the house. I didn't know what I was going to do because I was broke, but fuck living in there.

When I went inside, I'm not really sure how to describe it. But I felt good, I felt like the house welcomed me. I know it sounds stupid, but it was a really good feeling. I looked around, and the door was still open, scratches and all. But that didn't even bother me. I popped the hinges and broke the door- used the closet without a door the remainder of the time I lived there. I lived there for three years.

TL;DR Bought house, bedroom closest had a deadlock on the outside, inside the door were scratches made by 5 fingers, 2-4 feet tall. Painted closet shut, found open at 3am next to shadowy figure. Fled in panic, fear didn't stop until I threw junk I had in my car from the house out. Remained living in house with no problems.

#Unexplained/Paranormal #Building/aa/Closet #Visual/Shadow #Visual/Scratch_Marks #Emotions