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When I Was Eight Years Old

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When I was eight years old, my family moved from Marco, to a house in a village in Palo.

It was a beautiful village, and quite a nice house. We wished to live happily there. At first, everything seemed fine but after a few days, many scary incidents happened.

Things started to break down in the house. The grocery broke; doors opened themselves; television switched on and off itself; and so many more incidents that scared me a lot.

One day, I went to bed early at night, and read as I always do. A little while after turning the light off, I heard what sounded like footsteps in the room. As I listened they seemed to get louder. This frightened me, as there was carpet on the floor, and where the sound was coming from. I turned on the bedside light and the noise stopped. I thought it was raining but it wasn't .Every time I turned the light off, the noise started again. When I turned the light on, it stopped. I began to recite holy verses. I was frozen with fear. I never told anyone in my family about this at the time.

One day, my mother was busy in the kitchen, she noticed that someone was standing beside her but when she turned around no one was there .She told this to my father then I also told him about my weird experiences. After that, things would go missing, only to show up in oddest places. I always felt as though someone was around me, and would see shadows and hear noises constantly. It was just a feeling of ghosts and some scary creatures.

It's hard to describe. Then my parents decided to leave this house and to shift somewhere else.

The day we were leaving, a neighbour told us that a previous occupant had left this house for the same reason.

I would love to settle in it again, just to see if it still affected me as it did all those years ago.

It was the worst experience of my life. I will never forget my days in this haunted house.



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