When I was almost half a year old, my family and I moved into a new house in the nicest district of the town. However, the occurances didn't begin until I was about five years old. The first happened on the eve of Christmas 1988. I was just about to head to my bedroom, but not before I laid out some milk and cookies for Santa. Just as I laid the plate on the fireplace mantle, I heard a rustle behind me. I turned only to see our Christmas tree dect with lights and tinsle - the rustle had cesed. I shrugged and turned to leave. Just then, the tree moved. It didn't slide across the floor, but it actually moved and rustled for a few seconds. It stopped after a few seconds. I rushed to my parents room and told them of the incident. They told me that a package had probably fallen over, and to go to bed. That was the first of three incidents on which our Christmas tree moved on Christmas Eve. That was all that happened for those three years until the forth. I was spend! ing the warm summer day outside, playing with the sprinkler. Suddenly the sprikler turned off. I thought maybe the hose was bent or knotted. So I walked around to the rear of the house, following the trail of the hose. I didn't see any bends or loops, so I checked the handle to see if it was still on. The handle was completely turned off. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the back door close. Ran to the door and into the house. I expected to greet my mother or father, yet the house was empty. The house was also colder than the usual temperature. I also had the unkanny feeling that I was being watched. I watched television until my parents came home. After telling them, they could come up with no reasonable explaination. That was just one of the more than twenty occurances at that house until we moved in 1994. The first occurance at this house was on my 11 birthday. I opened the refrigerator door to grab the milk when I was forcefully shoved into the glass ! shelves, breaking one of them. I told my mother what had happened and she just nodded, but said nothing. The last and most frightening of these occurances happened in the fall of 1995. I had just gone to the basement to get some Kleenex. We have an unfinished basement that is as big as our six-thousand square foot home. As I turned on the light and began to open a new package of Kleenex, I heard what sounded like a low growl, but then I remebered that the dishwasher was on, so I didn't think anything of it. As I walked towards the door to leave, it slammed shut and the lights turned off. I stayed completly still. Suddenly, I was powerfully thrown off my feet. I scrambled in the direction that I thought was the door. I struck the wall. Fumbling for the door I screamed please stop following me! The growling halted, and soon the lights fluttered on. I looked arround and realized that I was on the other side of the room. A smell of fresh cut flowers filled the room a! s I stood and ran toward the door. There has not been one occurance since then, and now I go to the basement without hesitation, because every time I do, that same fragrent smell fills my nose.
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