A while ago, a boy named Clark moved into the house near mine. It's a beautiful house, up on a hill surrounded by tall oaks looking over the woods directly behind the neighborhood.
Clark went to the same school as me, and sat next to me in one of my classes. I mentioned that I lived near him, and we began talking frequently. A couple weeks later while I was walking my dog I ran into Clark, and after a nice conversation, he invited me over to dinner the next night. I really liked him, and agreed immediately.
The next night, I walked over to his house for dinner, with butterflies in my stomach. When I entered his house he introduced me to his mother. She was very polite, and said that she was sorry that she wouldn't be able to have dinner with us, as she was going out on a date.
She told Clark she would be back late, smiled at me, and left. Clark and I went into his kitchen to make dinner. While he found a good CD to play, I picked up a knife and began chopping up the vegetables for dinner. We had a blast, dancing around the kitchen and laughing until dinner was ready. It was delicious, and we both decided the best thing to do after such a good dinner was watch a good movie.
As we settled down on the couch, I heard the back door open. “Is your mom home early?” I asked. “She shouldn't be, usually she says something when she walks in.” He left to check to door, and I started the movie. He came back with a puzzled look on his face. “I guess the door blew open, no one was there. It happens sometimes, this is a really old house.” I nodded, and he sat back down.
After a few scenes, we had settled into a comfortable position. It was a really intense scene, and we were both silent, when we heard footsteps upstairs. I looked up at the ceiling, a little concerned. The thing with the door popped into my head. “Don't worry, it's probably just the cat messing around in the bathroom.” I agreed, but was still a bit disturbed by the two events. Eventually I forgot, and found myself focused on the movie again.
Minutes later, there was a scratching noise at the front door. Without hesitation, Clark jumped up and opened it, and his cat sauntered in. I watched his expression change, as he looked down at his cat, rubbing against his leg.
“Did she climb out the bathroom window or something?” I asked hesitantly. “She couldn't have, we don't have a window in the bathroom.'
“Then she must have gotten out of one of the other windows.. right?” I asked, hoping he would confirm my guess. “It's December.. all of the windows are locked shut...”
We both looked up at the ceiling, and the footsteps started again. We followed them all the way to the other side of the top floor, and heard them coming down the stairs. Clark came and stood in front of me, with the same fear on his face that I was feeling. The footsteps continued on through the kitchen, and we heard the door slam shut.
“Clark, I didn't see anything go through the room..” There was no way we could have missed a person walk through the house, right in front of the room we were in. “This is an old house.. maybe it wasn't a person.” He replied slowly. I stood up, deciding I'd feel much better going home early than staying in the house. I told Clark and he agreed, telling me he would walk me home.
When we got to my door, I asked if he wanted to stay over. “I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in the house alone tonight.” I told him. “I'll be fine, and my mom shouldn't be gone too much longer. I'll call you in the morning, and let you know if anything else weird happened.”
He smiled, and kissed me on the cheek before walking back towards the hill. I was still worried, but I hoped that whatever was in the house had left, for good. After setting my phone to ring when anyone called, I went to bed, and with some difficulty, fell asleep.
POLICE REPORT: On December the 19th at roughly 12:45 am, The DM Police Department received a 911 call from a woman, screaming that her son had been murdered in their home. Police arrived on the scene, and found that the 17 year old boy had been stabbed with a large kitchen knife, and had bled to death on the floor. A few hours later, the police arrested a 16 year old girl, whose fingerprints were the only ones found on the knife. The boy's mother verified that the girl had been at the house alone with her son earlier that night.
The girl denied killing the boy, stating that she believed it to be the work of something paranormal. As the case progressed, she became more and more frantic, demanding that they free her. After sessions with the State-hired Psychiatrist, she was determined mentally unstable, and sent away to an institution. She still claims that something paranormal had killed Clark, and at night she sobs, saying that she hears footsteps above her room, coming closer and closer.