I Still Can't Explain What Happened in My House

I’ve thought about writing this down a lot, but every time I start, I end up deleting it because I know how it sounds.

If somebody told me this story, I’d probably assume they were exaggerating.

I’m not saying I believe my house was haunted. I honestly don’t know what happened. That’s the reason it still bothers me.

This happened about two years ago when I was living alone in a rented house.

It was a small two-story place. Nothing fancy. The kind of house you don't really notice when you're walking down the street.

I had been living there for almost a year before anything strange happened.

The house made noises at night, but that was normal. The stairs creaked. The pipes sometimes knocked inside the walls. When it was windy, one of the windows downstairs would rattle.

I never thought much about it.

The night everything happened started completely normally.

I came home from work around 7 PM, made some food and watched TV for a couple of hours.

Around 11:30, I went upstairs.

I remember checking the front door before going to bed because I had recently started doing that every night. I checked the lock, checked the back door, and then went upstairs.

I put my phone on the nightstand and fell asleep.

I don't know exactly what time it was when I woke up.

My phone said 2:13 AM.

At first, I thought I had woken up because of a dream.

Then I heard something downstairs.

It sounded like a cupboard closing.

I stayed completely still.

A few seconds later, I heard another sound.

It sounded like someone walking across the kitchen.

I immediately thought someone had broken in.

I know that's probably the obvious reaction, but when you're alone in a house at two in the morning, that's where your mind goes.

I grabbed my phone and turned the flashlight on.

I didn't leave my room.

I just sat there listening.

Nothing.

Then I heard one of the stairs creak.

I remember staring at my bedroom door.

Another creak.

Then another.

Someone was coming upstairs.

I got out of bed and locked my bedroom door.

My heart was beating so hard that I could feel it in my chest.

I called the police.

While I was waiting, the footsteps stopped.

They were right outside my room.

I could see a small shadow underneath the door.

Someone was standing there.

I didn't say anything.

I didn't even breathe properly.

Then I heard three knocks.

Not loud knocks.

Just three soft taps.

I thought the person was going to try the door handle.

Instead, nothing happened.

After maybe thirty seconds, the footsteps moved away.

I heard them going back down the stairs.

I stayed in my room until the police arrived.

They searched the entire house.

Nobody was there.

There was no damage to the doors or windows.

Nothing had been stolen.

The officers told me it was possible I'd heard something outside or that the house had made the noises.

I didn't argue with them.

I actually wanted to believe that.

After they left, I checked the locks myself.

Everything was locked.

I went back upstairs and eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, I noticed something that bothered me.

There was a wet footprint on the kitchen floor.

Just one.

It was near the back door.

I stood there looking at it for probably a minute.

The floor was completely dry everywhere else.

I checked the back door.

It was locked.

I told myself I must have made the footprint earlier and simply forgotten about it.

That explanation wasn't great, but it was enough for me at the time.

For the next couple of weeks, nothing happened.

Eventually, I stopped thinking about it.

Then things started happening again.

It began with small stuff.

I would leave my keys on the kitchen counter and find them on the table.

I'd come downstairs in the morning and find a cupboard slightly open.

Once, I came home and found the bathroom light on.

I knew I had turned it off before leaving.

None of those things were impossible to explain.

I probably forgot.

That's what I kept telling myself.

Then one night, I heard someone say my name.

I was downstairs watching TV.

It sounded like someone had whispered it from upstairs.

I turned the TV down.

"Hello?"

No answer.

I waited.

Then I heard my name again.

This time it sounded closer.

I stood up.

I checked the entire upstairs.

Nothing.

I even checked the closet.

Nothing.

I started feeling stupid.

I went back downstairs and continued watching TV.

About ten minutes later, I heard a loud bang upstairs.

I turned the TV off.

I didn't go upstairs.

I just sat there.

Then my phone vibrated.

It was a notification from my security camera.

I had installed a small camera near the front door because I'd had some packages disappear from the porch.

I opened the camera app.

The live feed showed my hallway.

At first, I didn't see anything.

Then I noticed something moving at the end of the hallway.

It looked like a person.

I immediately stood up.

I looked toward the hallway.

There was nobody there.

I looked back at my phone.

The figure was still there on the camera.

I thought the camera was malfunctioning.

Then the figure moved.

It slowly walked toward the camera.

I was still standing about ten feet away from the hallway.

I could see nothing with my own eyes.

But on the phone, something was clearly moving.

I didn't know what to do.

I closed the app.

Then I opened it again.

The hallway was empty.

The figure was gone.

I checked the recording afterward.

There was nothing.

No person.

No movement.

Just an empty hallway.

I started seriously considering moving out.

But I kept talking myself out of it.

I had a lease.

The house was affordable.

And I didn't want to be the person who moved because of a weird camera glitch.

Then came the last night.

I was lying in bed around midnight when I heard someone downstairs.

This time it wasn't footsteps.

It sounded like someone was talking.

I couldn't understand the words.

I sat up and listened.

It sounded like two people whispering to each other.

I grabbed my phone.

I almost called the police again.

Then one of the voices said my name.

Clearly.

I got out of bed.

I don't know why.

Looking back, I should have stayed there.

I walked into the hallway.

The house was completely dark.

I stood at the top of the stairs.

The voices stopped.

I waited.

Nothing.

Then I heard something from downstairs.

My own voice.

It said:

"Go back to bed."

I just froze.

I can't properly explain what that did to me.

It wasn't just that the voice sounded like mine.

It sounded like me talking normally.

Like someone standing downstairs was trying to sound exactly like me.

I backed into my bedroom and locked the door.

I called the police again.

While I was waiting, I heard footsteps downstairs.

Then the front door opened.

I thought whoever was inside was leaving.

But the door closed again.

Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

They stopped outside my bedroom.

Three knocks.

Exactly the same as the first night.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I didn't answer.

A few seconds passed.

Then my own voice spoke from the other side of the door.

"You're not supposed to be awake."

I don't remember much after that.

I remember sitting on the floor.

I remember the police arriving.

I remember them searching the house.

And I remember one of them asking me why the bedroom door was locked from the inside.

I told him I had locked it because someone was outside.

He looked confused.

There was nobody outside.

There wasn't even anyone downstairs.

Again.

Nothing.

The officers checked the doors and windows.

Everything was locked.

They stayed for a while, then left.

I didn't sleep that night.

The next day, I packed a bag and stayed with a friend.

I eventually moved out of the house.

I never found an explanation.

The strangest thing happened after I moved.

About three months later, I was going through the files on my old phone.

I found an audio recording from that final night.

I don't remember recording it.

It was only about forty seconds long.

Most of it was silence.

Then you could hear three knocks.

After that, there was a few seconds of static.

Then a voice.

My voice.

It said:

"You're not supposed to be awake."

I deleted the recording.

I wish I hadn't.

Not because I wanted proof.

I just wish I still had it so I could listen to it and convince myself that there was some obvious explanation.

Maybe there was.

Maybe I was half asleep.

Maybe somebody somehow got into the house and was messing with me.

Maybe the camera malfunctioned.

Maybe the recording was something I had made without remembering.

I honestly don't know.

But there is one thing I still can't explain.

The night I moved out, I gave the landlord my keys.

I watched him lock the front door after I left.

Two days later, he called me.

He asked if I'd accidentally left something behind.

I said no.

He told me there was a glass of water sitting on the kitchen table.

I didn't say anything.

Then he said something that I still think about.

He said the glass had been placed on the exact spot where I used to leave my keys.

I never told him about the keys.

I never told him about the glass.

And I never told him what I heard in that house.

Maybe it means nothing.

Probably it does.

But I still think about that phone recording sometimes.

Especially the last sentence.

"You're not supposed to be awake."

Because if whatever happened that night really was inside my house...

I don't think it wanted me to see it.