Chapter 1

I honestly don’t know if I’m being paranoid anymore.

I live alone in a small house. It has two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and a basement.

The basement is mostly used for storage. There’s Christmas stuff, clothes, tools, and a bunch of random boxes down there.

I barely go down there unless I need something.

About three weeks ago, I started hearing noises at night.

The first time, it sounded like something had fallen over. After that, I heard something scraping across the floor.

I went downstairs to check and found nothing out of place, so I went back upstairs. As I was walking up, I thought I heard another noise behind me, but when I turned around, everything was quiet.

The next night, I heard footsteps.

It was just one step, then a pause, then another step.

After that, nothing.

I stood at the top of the stairs for a few minutes, listening, but I didn’t go down. It was around 2 AM and I was tired. I also didn’t really want to walk around the basement in the dark.

I checked it in the morning and didn’t see anything wrong, except for a box I’d left beside the basement door. It was now halfway down the stairs.

I figured I must have moved it and forgotten.

A few days later, I came home and noticed the basement door was open a little.

I always close it because the basement gets cold and the draft comes upstairs.

I closed it and went about my night, but after that I started noticing other things.

One of the kitchen chairs had been moved.

My water bottle was on the counter instead of beside my bed.

The basement light was on one morning, even though I never leave it on.

I checked all the doors and windows, but everything was locked. Nothing was missing either.

I felt stupid for thinking someone was inside the house. It seemed more likely that I was just forgetting where I put things.

Then last Tuesday, I put a small piece of tape across the basement door before going to bed. It connected the door to the frame, so I would know if the door opened.

I also set my phone on a shelf at the top of the stairs and started recording the hallway. I wanted to see if anything happened while I was asleep.

I went to bed around 12:30.

At 3:17, I woke up for no obvious reason. I checked the time, and then I heard a footstep downstairs.

A few seconds later, I heard another one.

I got out of bed and went into the hallway. The basement door was closed, and I could still see the tape across it.

I stood there for a while, trying to decide whether I should open it. I had my hand on the doorknob when I heard something move on the other side.

It sounded like someone shifting their weight.

I took my hand off the knob and went back to my room.

I called my brother, and he told me to call the police if I really thought someone was inside the house.

I didn’t call them. I didn’t even know what I would say.

In the morning, the tape was still attached, but when I looked closer, it had been peeled off and stuck back down.

I checked the recording on my phone.

Nothing happened for the first few hours. Then, at 3:17, you can hear the footsteps.

At 3:18, the phone moves slightly. It isn’t pointing directly at the basement door anymore.

I don’t remember touching it.

There’s also a sound that might be breathing, but I can’t tell for sure. It could just be the heating system or something else in the house.

I haven’t slept much since then.

Tonight, I heard footsteps again.

They weren’t coming from the basement this time.

They came down the hallway and stopped outside my bedroom door.

I’m typing this with the lights on, and I still haven’t checked the hallway.

I know I should leave or call the police, but I keep telling myself there’s probably a normal explanation.

This morning, I checked the basement again and didn’t find anyone there.

One of the boxes was open, though.

Inside was a jacket I haven’t worn in six months.

It was sitting on top of everything.

I almost picked it up, but stopped when I saw the sleeve.

The cuff was damp, like someone had been wearing it outside in the rain.

There was dirt pressed into the fabric near the shoulder, and the inside of the collar smelled faintly like my house.

I checked the jacket again a few minutes later.

It was cold by then.

But the box was still warm inside.

I haven’t gone back downstairs since.

A few minutes ago, I heard the basement door close.

I’m still upstairs.

And now there’s a jacket hanging on the back of my bedroom chair.

I don’t remember bringing it upsta