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When I was seven years old, I awoke in the middle of the night. I ordinarily wouldn’t have thought anything of it; it happened rather often. I would wake from nightmares and stay upright in bed for a short while before coaxing myself back to sleep. My parents had quite the tendency not to be caring or comforting, so I’d taken it upon myself to get myself back to sleep. However, tonight was different. When I woke, I immediately sat bolt upright in bed, scanning the room with my eyes widely, but unable to make out anything in the pitch black. I couldn’t bring myself back to sleep, however exhausted I was. I got the haunting feeling that I was being watched. Slowly, my eyes began to adjust to the darkness that was blanketing my room. That was the first time I saw her.
A young girl, probably about the same age as I at the time, was standing at the foot of my bed. She was pale and in a white nightgown, with long brown hair that flowed to the small of her back, and eyes quite literally the size of dinner plates. She stared at me. That’s all she did. Not once did she move, blink, or speak a word; all she did was sit and stare at me. I opened my mouth to scream for my mom, but no noise came out, and I found myself completely paralyzed with fear, unable to run away. I wasn’t certain how long she stood there at the foot of my bed, but eventually, she faded away, and I cried out loudly in fear. My mom rushed to my room quickly, but she was too late to see the apparition, who had disappeared.
For a month or so, I would only wake up to see her occasionally, just staring at me with her large eyes. Then, it became a routine thing. I would awaken every night to her small form staring at me and I would be frozen in fear until she decided to fade away. The experience never became any less frightening, even over the course of a year. Even after two years, she still haunted me every night. Never did her large eyes cease to terrify me out of my wits. By the time I was ten, it was driving me out of my wits. My parents didn’t believe me when I told them about it, insisting that I was only having night terrors. The specter was pushing me to the breaking point, then, all at once, she stopped coming in the night. I wouldn’t wake up and see here anymore. Still, the experience had taken it’s toll. Every time I woke up, I was afraid I would open my eyes and see her again, but I never did. I was relieved that it was finally over. For four years, she left me alone.
When I was fourteen, we left town and moved into a new home. It was much larger, much nicer, and more importantly, it didn’t hold the terrible memory of the haunting I had experienced in our previous home. This new house was comfortable and I didn’t feel afraid. I had all but forgotten the little girl in her nightgown. The first night in the house, I went to bed, and woke with an unsettling feeling. My eyes caught something glinting dully at the foot of the bed and my heart skipped a beat. She was standing there, at the foot of my bed, staring. As suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished again. And I never saw her again.
The thing that still disturbs me is the fact that she appeared even in her new home. It was almost as if to say, “I’m still here. You can’t escape me.”
Credit To: My Mother