Hello, bookworms. This week, I'm trying something new that I call "Spook Week." What it means is basically that each day of this week, I write a ghost story here on this blog. The story will either be true, meaning it's something that I or someone I know have gone through, or it's false, meaning I made it up. In my Instagram story (senseandbookibility) I'll do a poll each day, asking if the story of that day is true or false. Then, at the end of the day, I will let you know if the story was, in fact, true or false. Lastly, I just want to say that this is something I do for fun, both because I love ghost stories and because I love the engagement in the bookish community and I hope that this is something that you will enjoy as well.
Let the second spooky story begin...
Chilly Nights
The wind screamed into the pitch black night. I woke up from a nightmare and sat up in terror, breathing like I had just ran a marathon. My eyes wandered around in the bedroom, looking at the strange shapes of the furnitures. Then, I realized how dry my throat was and slipped my feet into some slippers, wrapped a dressing gown around my cold body and went downstairs. I walked slowly to try not to wake anyone up. When I reached the ground floor, I felt a chilling wind grabbing me for just a second, before it was gone again. I held my breath and continued into the kitchen. Boxes of random kitchen supplies still stood all around the floor. We had just moved into this house and hadn't had the time to unback yet. I searched the cabinets for a clean glass and poured some cold water.
Suddenly, I felt the same cold wind again. This time it was as if someone was watching me. I turned around but saw nothing. I had watched a lot of horror movies, so maybe that's why I always feel like I have to watch my back when I'm sourrounded by darkness. I shrugged my shoulders, headed upstairs for my room, and didn't think about it again... until the next day.
In the morning, my family had a conversation at the breakfast table about how it had been such a warm night and that they opened a window to let som air in, to be able to sleep. I thought it was strange, because it had been very cold in my opinion.
The next night, something woke me up. I couldn't put my finger on what though. My hands searched for the phone placed at my bedside table and put the flash light on. A small stream of light appeared and I held my phone in different areas in my room, but saw nothing. Maybe it was just a bad dream again, I thought, but couldn't go back to sleep. Instead, I went downstairs to take a glass of water. A chilling wind grabbed me as I reached the bottom floor. My feet wandered into the kitchen, where I saw a glass of water neatly standing on the counter. That's weird, I thought. Everyone always cleanes up after themselves. Maybe someone put it there, because they know I always need a glass of water during the nights?
Then I felt it again, someone watching me. This is silly, I thought, and turned around, but saw nothing. I felt like I needed to make sure it was actually nothing, because maybe there was someone there, maybe someone had snuck in from my parent's or my brother's open windows. I searched through the ground floor; the living room, the hallway, and the bathroom, but there was nothing there. Soon, I gave up and crawled into my bed again.
At the breakfast table the next morning, I told my family what had happend during the night and asked who put the glass of water there for me. Everyone seemed surprised by this and claimed to have slept all night long. I didn't want to trust my family, but I knew that they would never lie about something like this...
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