I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER 1:THE MYSTERIOUS WHISPERING

The year was 1817, and the quiet town of Tennessee, nestled within the rolling hills of the countryside, held little promise of anything extraordinary. The Bell family-John Bell, his wife Lucy, and their children-led a simple, peaceful life on their farm. Their days were filled with tending to the land, caring for the livestock, and raising their children: Betsy(Elizabeth), John Jr., Drew, and Richard. Life was good, or so it seemed. But unbeknownst to them, something dark and mysterious was about to make its presence felt, shattering the peace and tranquility of their world.

It all began on a cool autumn evening, when the moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the farm. The winds howled softly through the trees, and the crickets chirped in a steady rhythm. Inside the Bell household, everything appeared normal. John Bell sat at the head of the table, enjoying a simple dinner with his family. Lucy, his devoted wife, worked silently at the stove, preparing a meal that filled the air with the scent of roasting meats and warm bread. The boys seated quietly enjoying the meal, and Betsy Bell, their 12-year-old daughter, sat at the table, fidgeting with her food as she glanced nervously toward the corner of the room.

There was a strange feeling in the air that evening, something intangible yet undeniable. Betsy could sense it, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. She felt a heaviness in her chest, an odd chill running down her spine. She glanced up at her father, hoping to find some comfort in his familiar, reassuring gaze. But he seemed distracted, his eyes scanning the room as if listening for something just out of reach.

"Is everything alright, Betsy?" John asked, his voice low and gentle, as he noticed his daughter's unease.

"I-I don't know, Pa," Betsy murmured, holding her doll tightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like something's wrong. Like we're being watched."

Lucy turned from the stove, her brow furrowing. "Watched? What do you mean, dear?"

Betsy shook her head, her eyes wide with confusion. "I don't know. It's just a feeling."

Before anyone could respond, a loud scratching sound echoed from the far corner of the room, making all of them jump. It was as if something-or someone-was clawing at the wooden floorboards.

John Bell stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "What in the name of heaven was that?" he muttered, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. "Did you hear that?"

Lucy's face went pale. "It sounded like-like something scratching."

"It's probably just an animal," John suggested, though his voice was uncertain. "I'll go check it out."

John motioned for his sons, John Jr., Drew, and Richard, to follow him as he moved cautiously toward the source of the sound. The air felt thick with tension as the family gathered in the dimly lit hallway, listening intently for any further noises.

"Pa, I don't like this," Betsy said, her voice trembling as she grabbed hold of her father's sleeve. "It feels like someone's here."

John Bell turned to his daughter, his brow furrowed in concern. "It's just the wind or an animal, Betsy. Stay close to me."

As John led his sons through the house, the scratching sound intensified, becoming more rhythmic. It was as though something was deliberately dragging its nails across the floorboards, scraping them with malicious intent. The family moved slowly, their hearts pounding in their chests, as they made their way toward the source of the noise.

They reached the corner of the room, where the noise seemed to be emanating from. But when John swung open the door to the small storage room, there was nothing there-just empty space and a cold, unnatural draft. No animal. No person. Only silence.

John Bell's mind raced, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed. "That don't make no sense," he muttered. "I swear I heard something."

"Maybe it's a prank," John Jr. suggested, his voice shaky as he clutched a lantern in his hand. "Some neighbor pulling a joke."

But deep down, they all knew something was off. This was no joke. No prank. Something far more sinister was at work.

The Bell family tried to shake off the unnerving experience, convincing themselves it was just an animal or a figment of their imagination. But the disturbances continued. The next night, as the family sat down for dinner, the sounds grew more pronounced. It started with faint whispers, almost like a breath on the wind, carried from one side of the room to the other.

Betsy's eyes widened as she looked around the room. "Do you hear that?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear. "It's like someone's whispering."

Lucy's face turned pale as she strained to listen. "I don't hear anything, dear," she said, though the unease in her voice betrayed her calm exterior.

But then, the whispers grew louder. They weren't just in one corner of the room-they seemed to be coming from every direction, surrounding them.

"What in the world?" John whispered, his voice a mixture of disbelief and dread.

Before anyone could respond, a sharp, loud scratching sound erupted once more, this time accompanied by a low, guttural growl that seemed to reverberate through the walls. It was a sound that chilled them to their very bones. The room grew cold, the air thick with an unseen presence.

"Pa... I think it's here," Betsy whispered, clutching her father's sleeve.

John Bell's face hardened. "No more of this. We need to get to the bottom of this."

As the days went by, the Bell family's terror only deepened. The scratching sounds continued, but now, they were joined by other eerie noises: the clinking of chains, as if something was dragging them across the floor. And then, at night, when the family tried to sleep, they would feel invisible hands tugging at their hair, pulling them from their beds.

Lucy Bell, exhausted and frightened, confided in her husband one night. "John... it's not just noises anymore. It's like... like something's touching me. I feel it, Pa... something's here with us."

John Bell frowned, his eyes dark with worry. "I don't know what it is, Lucy, but we need to find out. We can't go on living like this."

Despite their best efforts to explain away the events as nothing more than superstition or the result of an overactive imagination, the Bell family could no longer deny the truth. They were being haunted by something-something that seemed intent on tormenting them.

The final straw came one night when Betsy, in the middle of a restless sleep, was violently yanked from her bed. She cried out in terror as an unseen force held her down, her body writhing against the invisible hands that seemed to drag her into the darkness. Her screams echoed through the house, waking the others.

John Bell rushed to his daughter's side, shaking her awake. "Betsy, what happened? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice frantic with concern.

Betsy's wide eyes locked onto her father's, filled with fear and confusion. "I... I don't know, Pa. It was like... like something was holding me down. It wouldn't let me move."

Lucy knelt beside her daughter, tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh, my sweet Betsy, what are we going to do?"

John Bell stood, his jaw clenched in resolve.

That night, as the family huddled together in fear, a chilling whisper filled the room. A voice, cold and malevolent, seemed to seep from the walls themselves.

"I am here... I can see you."