Alright, I never saw myself writing a true story on here, but my life has apparently landed me here. I know you aren’t gonna believe me, but this is true. For background info: I’m a teenager who lives with his family (mom, dad, older brother) and two cats. About a year ago my dad fucked up our mortgage payment, and we lost our house, so we live in a rented place now. I’ve never liked the house, but that’s mostly because my family sucks and the house is so tiny.
I’m a practicing witch, have been for about a year, but I’m super unskilled in most aspects still. So I’m very, very lost, and pretty goddamn worried about what happened today.
I’ve been home sick for the past couple days, some sort of stomach bug. My parents both work and my brother is still in school, so I was home alone with the cats. For the first two days, it was chill; mostly sleeping, watching TV, eating toast and canned fruit. Today, the third day, I thought I might be able to go to school. Tried to eat some Cheerios, almost puked, decided to go back to bed. I slept for hours, because being sick is hell for me and I was exhausted. Woke up at probably 2 o’clock in the afternoon, laid in bed for a bit, then decided I was hungry.
I stopped to go to the bathroom before I went downstairs. My cat Monday loves to hang out in the upstairs bathroom, no idea why, but she just climbs in the cabinets and sits on the bath mat, perfectly content. She was in there, I gave her some pets, did my business, and went downstairs, left her chilling on the floor. I went downstairs and said hi to my other cat, Spirit, who was sitting on the futon in the dining room. Then went into the kitchen, was about to get all my stuff ready for some bitchin’ toast, when I heard a distinct footstep from upstairs.
I paused, thinking maybe it was Monday, and she’d knocked something over upstairs. Nope. Loud, continuous footsteps, pounding on the floor above the kitchen loud enough to shake the plates in the cabinets. I froze for at least a minute, and the footsteps didn’t stop. I snuck a glance out to the dining room, and saw Spirit on his feet, lashing his tail and looking upstairs, like he does when he hears something he doesn’t recognize. So I texted my dad, asked what to do. Got the fuck out of the house, footsteps never stopping, and sprinted to the library by my house.
Any of you read James Thurber’s writing? He had a story in his autobiography about the time he heard a ghost running around his kitchen table, in circles, and then up the stairs, when he could clearly see nobody was there. It’s a good read, and also pretty damn accurate to what I experienced.
Eventually the cops got called, officers checked the place out and confirmed no signs of forced entry, nobody in the house. Nothing had been messed with or moved around in the house, and both cats were safe and accounted for, if a little spooked. All the doors were locked, windows closed, and nobody had been home besides me and Monday and Spirit since 10:30 that morning. My family believes me, the cops seemed confused but cooperative, and I know I wasn’t imagining the footsteps.
I’ve ruled out hallucination, although I’ve been known to have those before, because Spirit reacted to it and seemed distressed, and I don’t think the folie au deux effect works between animals and humans. I know carbon monoxide poisoning could be a possibility for causing delusions or confusion, but I feel like I would have gotten other symptoms first. The air conditioner has never made that kind of noise before, and never loud enough to shake the cabinets. If anyone else has any other options of what this might be besides a ghost, please tell me them.
I want to rule out the mundane possibilities before I start worrying about spirits, but I’m definitely open to the possibility of being haunted. A friend of mine, also a witch, has suggested I try and initiate communication with whatever might be living here, so if I do that, I’ll post an update. Thanks for reading.