Targeted

After all that I went through in the Stanton house, it's pretty clear that it had a weathered past, rittled with terrible events and activities. It's likely people had died while living in the house although that was never quite a concern of mine. Death was just a passage from one point to another. What burdened me was the utter anguish and dispair I felt while living there. Things had happened there that weren't quite right and the memories of these events had created a new structure of their own within the walls of the house. These memories were constantly being reinacted as we lived around them, usually unknowinging but occasionally slipping through.

It was the room that really opened the connection between their world and mine. I'm sure I was the first person to enter the room since it had been sealed off and the strange items placed within. I believe someone died in the house that had a significant connection to that room and they weren't too happy about my interference. It was not long before this discontent was made clear to me.

In my bedroom there was a sliding lock on the outside of the closet door. I would lay in bed and look at this lock and wonder who it was, how many, how often... what happened? As if my waking hours weren't enough, I had endless numbers of nightmares about that closet. In fact, my last dream about it was about 4 months ago --11 years after moving out.

These two closets were nearly identical in size. My parent's also had another full walk-in closet in their bedroom but they decided to cut a door and create an "art room" for all my mom's art supplies. I felt pretty indifferent about this until it was built. The room was beyond creepy; it felt heavy and thick with negative energy. You could turn on the light but it still felt dark. I avoided going near it at nearly all costs.

One day however I had some friends over and we wanted to start an art project. The supplies were in this room and although I didn't like it I had gone in the room alone before. I was the only one upstairs as I pushed the white shutter doors open. I pulled the string hanging from the ceiling to turn on the light. As I stood there looking for the supplies, I could feel the stillness surround me. Without warning I heard... or felt, or both, the deep, low, long sigh in my ear. I froze in fear, the blood ran from my body. The excelled air slowly sucked back in, completing a full, heavy breath. Upon a second exhale I ran, hard. I ran down the hall, down the stairs, through the dining room, kitchen, sun room and out the front door. I saw my mom and my best friends mom outside talking. I couldn't breath and busted out in tears and hysterical sobbing. All I could say between breaths was "A man! There's a man!" They looked at each other and began questioning. "Who? In the house?!" Not really sure what to think the two of them went to the kitchen and grabbed a large steak knife and searched the house yelling for whoever it was to come out. I remained outside as they came back out. Once I caught my breath I bellowed out "I'm never going into that house again! Never. Never Never."