My final ghost encounter story for this month, comes from when I was 16 years old. No one knows about this encounter because I never had the nerve to talk about it. Now that I'm an adult I figure my mother can't punish me for sneaking out. Besides, what I witnessed the night I decided to disobey my mom was punishment enough.
You can ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that I am the most quiet and respectful person you will ever meet. I never broke the rules when I was younger, or at least that's what everyone thought. To be honest, my family only saw one side of me. That side was a sweet, shy girl who was scared to live. I never had to be watched every second of the day because I was so independent and way too smart for my own good. I used that side of me to get away with things my family didn't even know I was doing.
The other side of me took advantage of the fact that I was shy and independent. No one ever expected me to do anything wrong and that was working perfectly for me. I would hang out with and date people I should not have been around, not even for a second. Worst of all, I would sneak out of my home and go off on my own little adventures. No one even knew I would leave the house.
One night, that I'll never forget, I climbed out of my bedroom window and ran off into the night to meet up with a friend of mine. This friend and myself explored our little town in New Mexico and then went back to her house. Now my friend came from a very violent family. They were abusive, drunk, drug addicts that were hardly ever home. When they were, you always knew it because usually someone would get arrested.
Her oldest brother was a scary example of how bad the people were in the house. I only met him once and when I did he scared the crap out of me. He would constantly talk to himself or, "the little men in his head," as he called them. He was abusive, to not only his sister, but his other siblings and his parents. I remember him once grabbing hold of my arm and glaring into my eyes after he caught his sister and I sneaking away from school. He only let go when she threaten to hit him with a rock. For about a week after I had nightmares and a bruise to remind me of our encounter. I didn't go to her house for a long time after that.
However, soon after that incident, I did start visiting again, but only when I was sure he was dead. About a month or more later they found him dead at a known drug house. He was a hardcore drug user, so much so that he eventually overdosed and killed himself. "I'm glad he's dead..." is what my friend told me when I asked her how she was doing. She didn't even go to his funeral. In fact, I never even saw her sad or cry after he died. I only remember seeing her scared.
The night I left my home to hangout with her, I saw her the most fearful I had ever seen her. As usual her parent were gone, along with her other siblings. She had the entire two story house to herself. That night, I just figured she was high. She kept telling me that her brother's ghost was walking through the house. She said, "he's torturing me!" Before this, she had told me stories about how she would see him in the corner of her eye, or how sometimes she would see him standing out in the backyard trying to get into the house.
At first I thought she was just trying to scare me because she would laugh a little every time she would tell these things. That night, and because she had smoked weed, I figured her mind was just playing games on her. I was completely sober and I hadn't seen anything. So I convinced her everything was okay and I stayed with her as she fell asleep. Around 3 am in the morning, I decided to go into the kitchen and get some water. I walked down the stairs and for a split second I could have sworn I saw him sitting in the chair staring off into space. I laughed to myself and went straight into the kitchen. After getting a drink of water, something came over me. Suddenly I felt the most intense fear I had ever felt in my life. I even started shaking. I placed the glass down and started to go back upstairs, but something or someone stopped me. My arm burned as if someone were squeezing it. At that moment, I saw a faint image of a man crouching down and walking into a closet under the stairs.
I started to scream, but I cupped my hand over my mouth. Making sure it wasn't any of my friend's younger siblings, I forced myself out of the kitchen and over to the closet. I slowly opened it, expecting to see something that would turn my hair white, but instead I saw nothing.
As fast as I could I raced back up to my friends room. I closed her door and locked and then jumped into bed with her. I tried to wake her and tell her about what I had seen but I would have had more luck trying to wake a comatose patient. Suddenly, I heard a soft rapping at her door. I knew no one was there. I had just been down stairs and the doors were locked and the windows had bars over them.
"Hello?" I said, hoping and praying her father or mother would answer. Silence. I laid there waiting for more knocks, but instead heard the floor broads began to creak. The door knob rattled and shook as whoever was on the other side tried to get in. At this point I was crying and shaking in fear. I wanted nothing more than to run home to my mom, however, the only way out was through the front door down stairs, which meant I would have to open the bedroom door.
Not knowing what else to do, I laid there with my eyes closed and prayed. I repeated The Lord's Prayer, over and over again, until the footsteps entered the room. I opened my eyes and saw that the door was still closed and locked, yet, someone else had entered the room and was getting closer and closer to me but I couldn't see them. I nudged my friend, trying to wake her, but it was no use. All of a sudden, the walking stopped, but then quickly turned into running. I opened my eyes again and nearly had a heart attack. I saw her older brother, the one who had overdose and killed himself, run straight for me. I closed my eyes again before he could pounce on me and attack. I saw his face, the marks on his skin from his drug use, and the look of anger and insanity in his eyes. It was him.
The rest of the night was a nightmare. He rattled the doorknob, knocked
on the walls, and taunted me for hours. It was like he was daring me to
open my eyes. I was actually tempted to smoke weed just so I would pass out like my friend. In too much fear to move, I stayed with my friend until it got light. I kept my eyes closed the entire time. As soon as I felt the sunlight on my skin, I ran as fast as I could from the house. I even ran straight pass my friend's mother, who was just getting home. She called out to me and asked if I was okay, but I didn't answer her. I just ran. A few days later, as I was getting dressed I noticed something on my arm. It was a bruise. It looked as if someone had grabbed hold of me and held on as tight as they could.
After that night I never crept out of my house again.
