Lauren was thirteen when she moved in with her aunt, who stayed in Ventura, CA. Her mother was getting some divorce work settled, and she would be staying with her aunt for at least a month. because the period of time was so emotionally trying for her, she tried to believe that that was what caused the strange feelings and incidents for her. She thought that maybe the feeling she got when she walked up the stairs could somehow be attributed to her unstable state of mind at the time. Every time she ascended the stairs, she would get the strong feeling that someone was watching her. It made it difficult for her to go to bed at night: she stayed on the second storey. When she confessed this to her aunt, her aunt suggested that maybe her mind was playing tricks on her because she was under so such stress.
She suggested she stay home from school for a couple of days. But that nagging feeling of surveillance continued throughout her entire stay there, which lasted four weeks. And halfway through, other things started to happen as well. She had been watching TV in the middle of the afternoon when she heard footsteps sound in her bedroom upstairs. Infuriated thinking that, maybe her younger cousin had been snooping around in her room, she tiptoed upstairs with the intention of catching him red handed. But she realized two things the minute she got upstairs and looked in. for one, she realized that the eight year old was nowhere in sight. For another, she remembered that he had gone out with his mother less then an hour ago and the house was empty. She felt something form in the pit of her stomach and went back downstairs feeling uneasy. She supposed the footsteps could have been a figment of her imagination, although she seriously doubted it, and so she went back to watching television.
This began a series of episodes, which commenced a mere five minutes later when she not only hear footsteps, but also murmuring voices coming from her room as well. Running up again, not sure what she would do if she actually found someone inside, she found no one yet again and again went down, feeling uneasy. She turned the volume of the television up as loud as she could take so she would not be able to hear anything else. The next week was horrible for her. By the middle of the week, the feeling that she was being watched was so strong that she could not bring herself to go up to her room at night at all. She would sleep in the late afternoons and go downstairs the minute the sun began to set. She would either lie on the couch and watch television or do her work in the kitchen with all the lights on. All the while, she would hear sounds coming from her room. By her last week there, Lauren honestly thought she was going crazy. The key element in that thought was that no one heard anything strange at all, except for her. Her aunt was getting extremely worried about the dark circles under Lauren's eyes, and the fact that she would find her on the couch every morning. She had already phoned up her mother who could do nothing as she was still tied up in court. By the time the fourth week came, her aunt had told her that she could come into her room and sleep with her if it meant that she would keep normal hours.
Lauren nodded her head gratefully. She sat up that night though, her aunt snoring peacefully beside her, because she kept hearing sounds from the room next door: her room. Divided by only a thin wall, she tried to ignore the voices that came from the other side and tried to pretend that the footsteps were not there. The most terrifying moment came when she heard a squeak coming from her room. She knew straight away that it had been her door opening. She heard the footsteps get softer and then louder again. The only difference was that they were not next door anymore. Instead, they were at the door of her aunt's room.
Lauren gripped her sheets and looked at the hall light, which peeped in through the gap at bottom of the door, realizing that the light had dimmed as if a mist had collected outside. She let out a piercing scream and had she not been lying down already, she would have collapsed onto the bed. Words could not describe the feeling she had the morning she moved out and back into her mother's house. She packed her things in the dreaded room and quickly left to put her bags downstairs. When she had everything settled, she realized that she had left her toothbrush in the bathroom upstairs. She ran back up the stairs to find her aunt holding a huge, old looking padlock, standing outside the room she had been meant to stay in. Her aunt looked up at her, startled at her presence. 'Oh, Lauren,' she had said as if she had been caught doing something she was not supposed be doing. They both looked at the chain, which her aunt had put to chain the entrance. They looked back up, their eyes meeting for a while before her aunt looked away.
'What are you doing?' Lauren asked. Her aunt was silent for a while, and then began to speak. 'You know, when your mother called me and told me about the divorce, I really wanted to do anything I could to help, including helping you with a place to stay. It's just that... we have so little space... and this was the only room. Thing is... we got this house cheap and when we bought it, this room was locked solid. They said... they said someone died in here. We had never opened it... till you came to stay...
Lauren nodded her head gratefully. She sat up that night though, her aunt snoring peacefully beside her, because she kept hearing sounds from the room next door: her room. Divided by only a thin wall, she tried to ignore the voices that came from the other side and tried to pretend that the footsteps were not there. The most terrifying moment came when she heard a squeak coming from her room. She knew straight away that it had been her door opening. She heard the footsteps get softer and then louder again. The only difference was that they were not next door anymore. Instead, they were at the door of her aunt's room.
Lauren gripped her sheets and looked at the hall light, which peeped in through the gap at bottom of the door, realizing that the light had dimmed as if a mist had collected outside. She let out a piercing scream and had she not been lying down already, she would have collapsed onto the bed. Words could not describe the feeling she had the morning she moved out and back into her mother's house. She packed her things in the dreaded room and quickly left to put her bags downstairs. When she had everything settled, she realized that she had left her toothbrush in the bathroom upstairs. She ran back up the stairs to find her aunt holding a huge, old looking padlock, standing outside the room she had been meant to stay in. Her aunt looked up at her, startled at her presence. 'Oh, Lauren,' she had said as if she had been caught doing something she was not supposed be doing. They both looked at the chain, which her aunt had put to chain the entrance. They looked back up, their eyes meeting for a while before her aunt looked away.
'What are you doing?' Lauren asked. Her aunt was silent for a while, and then began to speak. 'You know, when your mother called me and told me about the divorce, I really wanted to do anything I could to help, including helping you with a place to stay. It's just that... we have so little space... and this was the only room. Thing is... we got this house cheap and when we bought it, this room was locked solid. They said... they said someone died in here. We had never opened it... till you came to stay...
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