Some Kind of Horror Story

I wrote this when I was younger but it is heavily based on a true story. The girl, Violet, was me. A lot of the events in the story did take place, but a few were made up for the sake of the writing.

I’m Violet. I’m a normal 14-year-old girl, and my life has been simple for as long as I can remember. My mum and dad make good money, I have nice things, a big house, I live a good life.

I’ve lived in this one house for as long as I can remember, and it was always nice. Nothing strange has ever happened, well not until recently. At this point in time, however, you can’t tell anyone about the supernatural, or paranormal occurrences. It’s 1958, and I think people could be less judgemental, but that’s not the case. My family isn’t crazy, in fact, we’re quite sane. I’m not saying we’re perfect, but we’re definitely not crazy.

Things started happening when I was about nine years old. When I was about two years old, though, I ran around the house screaming “Man on fire! Man on fire!” but that’s the strangest thing we’ve experienced until recently. I remember the first time I saw anything- or anyone. I was playing with my mum in the hallway. She left to go get something for us to eat, so it was just me in the hallway and my dad in his room. I was playing by myself when all of a sudden the shadowed figure of a little boy appeared in front of me. When I saw him, or it, I stopped breathing. Not because I was scared, but because he was not human. “I am your friend,” said the boy. “I just want to play.” I started to ignore the feeling that he may be dangerous. I played with him for days, when finally, he never came back.

Fast forward a year or two. I was ten at this point. I was finally realising things. I started to become morbidly depressed for no reason at all. To add to that, I was scared and paranoid all the time. It wasn’t too bad until I tried to go to sleep. I saw things. I saw shadows, and more importantly, I saw a small, strange looking child sitting in the corner of my room. I told myself it was just my imagination, and my mum told me it was all in my head. I strongly believed this, until one day when everything changed.

It was summertime and I was about to enter sixth grade. My birthday was coming up and I was happier than usual. I was happy, but my nights started getting weird. I would wake up every night at 3:33 to a huge force crushing my chest. “Sleep paralysis,” I thought, but when you have sleep paralysis, you can’t move. I could move. Although I was able to, it didn’t matter because I was practically paralyzed with fear. A tall, shadowy man, much like the boy, started to hunch over me and it seemed that with every “breath” he took, he took some of my air with it.

One night, the beads that were hanging from my ceiling fan started to spin. There were flies everywhere. When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. The shadow man was standing at the foot of my bed. The little child in the corner started to screech. I was so scared I couldn’t scream. I would try and only air would leave my lungs. “Mum, dad, help me. Please, God, let me live. Help me get through this.” I was praying, I was crying, I was trying to scream. I couldn’t.

I heard my mum and my dad screaming. I had no clue what was happening, but they were scared and most likely, in danger. I was so scared that when I tried to stand, I shook so much I fell. I was shaking so bad. I carried myself out of my bed. My knees were shaking so much I had to crawl. As I was crawling out of my room, I was just getting to my doorway when I felt a sharp cutting into my leg. The child had dug his nails into my calf, and I was bleeding. I was paying attention to my wounded leg, and then I looked up and saw that child’s face. It was demonic. It had the strangest look like it was emotionless. That’s when I realised that I was not dealing with the ghost of a child, there was something else using a child as a shell to manifest itself within.

I had to help my parents. I crawled out of my room, now limping and sobbing. The pain, oh the pain. It hurt so bad. I was so scared. When I was fully out of my room and had made it to my kitchen, I saw that things were falling off of the counter. There were knives all over the floor and glass had been broken. I cut my hands and my knees. I was in so much pain, but I made it to my mum’s room. There were two shadow figures at the foot of their bed, and my dad was holding onto my mum and praying. That’s when I noticed there were two black blobs of something hovering above my her.

I crawled back out of the room and tried to phone the police. They showed up, and one man said, “Is this what you called us to, little girl? This, child, is nothing. You had a bad dream, there was a gust of wind. Solved. Phone us when you have a crime on your hands. Good day.” I was disgusted. There was something in our house that wasn’t human.

The next day there were dead flies everywhere and all three of us heard a man talking. He was telling us to leave. He was angry and threatened to kill us. We were so scared that we ran into my dad’s automobile and began looking for houses for sale. We found one and bought it the next day. We began to move in, but during the nights that we were moving I had nightmares. They were so awful. The boy I played with years ago was telling me awful things.

We were finally out of the house. It was around Christmas now, and my mum and I were selling ornaments down the street. She was ordered to return home by a police officer.

When we returned home, there were people waiting for us. They told us that our house had been burned down to almost nothing. We still had things in there, and my mum began to weep. The woman who informed us of what happened looked somewhat off. She had a dark feeling to her as if she was glad to tell us the information. Once she left, a candle fell off of my dining room table, where she sat. The candle lit the hardwood floor on fire for a second. There was no wind, no one touched it, it just fell. The thing was still with us.

There were no more occurrences, no more dreams, no more anything. Part of me still knew, though, that there is something with us.

That brings me to where I am now. All I want to say is that when someone feels like something is off, there probably is something wrong. It is important that people trust their gut. Although I have moved now, I am still scared, but when I feel threatened I leave the situation. That is how I’ve remained safe. I’m keeping my mind open and we have had our house blessed and saged. I think things may turn out for the better.