I grew up listening to all sorts of scary stories from my parents, and my grandparents, but I never really believed in anything supernatural firmly. This was, though, till one particular night when I was fifteen.
My grandmother lived with us and it had been around 3 months since she passed away. I would often stay up listening to her stories, and had taken to studying in the same room after her passing. I always had a sense of comfort in that room, even though almost everyone I knew found it to be quite creepy. Their view was understandable for me as well; the room had a dusty old closet attached to it, which was still had a lot of antiques and old chests stowed away in it.… Read the rest