11. “he had no memory of what had happened that night and still doesn’t remember…”
My family and I had just rent this beautiful historical house that was built around the underground railroad era. It had small hideouts and doors where slaves would hideout in. As soon as soon as we moved it, we got uncomfortable vibes from it. We’d here footsteps coming from the upstairs when everyone was downstairs, the tv would turn off/ on by itself and doors would open and close by themselves. We eventually accepted the fact that we had a ghost and it seemed harmless, so we called “her” Claudia. Each of my family members had a least seen Claudia once, she was a tall dark figure who would move fast. Most of the hauntings would come from my bedroom, it was always cold and had an unpleasant smell. My little brother began sleep walking and would have terrible nightmares. One night became the final straw for my family and our relationship with Claudia. My sister and I were away at our friends while my parents and brothers were at home. The whole house was asleep when my dad woke up from screaming coming from my bedroom, when he ran out past the living room (where my little brother like to sleep because of his sleep walking) he noticed that my brother wasn’t there. So he ran up stairs where he met my older brother who had heard the screaming as well and they both saw the my bedroom door was shut and they realized that it was my little brother screaming in my room. They both went to open the door but it was like something was blocking it, so finally my dad busted door down and as the door flew open, a black shadow ran right past him and my brother. He then entered my room that was so cold, that he could see his own breath. He looked over at my litte brother, who was laying on my bed and covered in sweat and tears, and started yelling his name to wake him up. But my little just pointed (still “asleep”) at the corner of the room and started yelling “get her daddy, get her!! My dad looked over but saw nothing but pitch black, that was enough for him, he quickly grabbed my brother who was as stiff as a board and ran the hell out of there. When my brother woke up the next day, he had no memory of what had happened that night and still doesn’t remember when he talk about it almost five years later. We moved out of that house a few weeks after the incident and my brother stopped sleep walking as soon has we did. We’ve heard a few other stories from the people who currently own the house, but nothing quite as terrifying as what happened to my brother or my dad. The house has a great history behind it, but it was too creepy for my family.
