Living with an unknown force

In all of the time that I’ve lived alone in this house, I swear I’ve closed more doors than I’ve opened.  I moved into the old house at the end of the street for a cheap place to live during college. My grandparents used to keep this just as an extra guest house, because they had more money than they knew what to do with. There was only one time where they actually stayed the entire night, so they aren’t missing anything by me staying here. It’s been about three months since I moved in, and I’m starting to see why they never got their money’s worth from this house.

It seems like every day something new happens that makes the hair on my arm stand up. Lights will be on that I never turned on, lights will randomly turn off, doors will open and close, the windows will be open, he sink will start running water. I always feel like someone, or rather something is there with me. Following me around like it’s my shadow, dark and always right behind me. After the first couple weeks I learned to ignore whatever it was that seemed to be haunting me. However, lately ignoring it wasn’t an option.

Eight days ago, a bunch of pictures of me fell off the wall when I was passing. All the frames and glass shattered, and cut a deep hole into my left ankle. Nothing was there to knock down the pictures, much less all of them at once. I’m just lucky that it was just my ankle rather than my stomach, face, or anywhere ever worse. Seven days ago the bathroom door slammed shut on my hand. Before when a door would close, it would slowly creep shut while screaming out a piercing creek. This time was different. This time it had a strong force behind it, like whatever it is that keeps doing this was angry. I’m not sure if my hand is broken or not, I’d rather not go to the doctor and have to explain where my cut and damaged hand came from. On the sixth day I woke up to a flooded room caused by my shower turning on it the night with the drain plugged. On the fifth I found a total of thirteen dead mice in the medicine cabinet. On the fourth day, I was surprised by the nice warm water from the shower head suddenly turned to a blistering hot attack that felt as if hundreds of tiny pins were being stabbed into my back all at once. When I tried to escape what felt like being burned alive, my shower curtain was caught. I tugged and tugged with all my might until finally it broke open and I became free. After that episode I laid on the ground and cried. Both from pain and exhaustion. There’s nowhere I can go, my parents are live on the other side of the country, my grandparents died two years ago, and I haven’t made any friends. At least none that would care enough about me to listen to what is happening without thinking I was just crazy. I was about to just give up until the next two days were peaceful.

The past couple days I’ve been so on edge that I don’t even know what to do with myself. I refuse to look in the mirror and see the mess I’ve become. The bags under my eyes are there to stay, my blue eyes are now complimented with red around it from them becoming so bloodshot due to the amount of crying and lack of sleep I’ve had lately. My back and arms were bright red and starting to peel from the burns I received from the shower. My long hair is now greasy and dirty, because I refuse to shower again, no matter how much I need to clean up. Tonight there’s supposed to be intense thunderstorms all throughout the night. I’ve heard so many times today that it’s the “calm before the storm”. I like to think they’re talking about the weather, but deep down know that this couple day break can be considered the same thing. I finally decide that I need to bathe, so I start the bath water. I only fill it up a couple inches, turn on some music and try to relax. In a way the rain is soothing to listen to. As soon as I start to become even slightly carefree the thunder shakes the house. The lights are starting to flicker. A small panic is starting to build inside the pit of my stomach. Then the lights suddenly go out completely. I am now alone in the utter darkness. The calm has now become the storm. I can hear the creaking of the bathroom door opening, so I just hold my breath. Maybe it’s nothing. Next thing I know my hair is pulled down and I can’t move. I struggle to try and break free, but somehow my hair has been caught in the drain, my head just barely above the water. Then the water turns on, the same temperature from a few days ago. Screaming is the only thing I can think to do. The water is rising, and I know it’s just a matter of seconds before my piercing screams are muffled by the water spilling over my face. I take one last breath and close my eyes. The already darkness, has turned to a different kind of darkness. My head is now completely underwater and my skin is burning. There’s nothing more I can do. My head starts to spin from lack of oxygen. This is it, whatever has been in my house the past couple months has finally taken over and won. I’m just a victim of whoever or whatever I’ve been living with.