Short Horror Stories.......

My Great Grandmother's House...........

I love my grandparents; I always have had a great relationship with them but I hate their house. The house has been in our family for over a century and was owned by my great grandmother before it was passed down to my grandfather... However, something had always seemed off about the house.

My friends would go over there and they would say that "it's cold" even though the air was off or "I feel like I'm being watched". Well, when my great grandmother passed away, my mother and I moved into the house. We lived there for about a month but then moved back to our old house. I never wanted to spend another night in the house after what happened.

In my old room, I had a bathroom. It was very small. It had enough room for a toilet and a small sink but that was it. The night we moved in I woke up in the middle of the night for no reason. I got up and went to the bathroom when the door behind me shut on its own and locked. My bathroom lock was broken, meaning it shouldn't have been able to lock, and the only light in the bathroom besides my phone went out.

I've always have had a obsession with ghost hunting, which made me a peculiar child, so I already had a "Ghost Hunting" app I didn't believe worked until that day. It was a simple app with a radar and a text box over the radar. It was supposed to tell you what ever the spirit was saying. I remember feeling like someone was breathing down my neck, when suddenly the door unlocked and the radar picked up one word: "RUN".

I ran back to my bed and hid under the covers till I fell asleep. The next day I was exhausted and went to sleep soundly. Once again, however, I woke up in the middle of the night for no reason. I figured it was because I was hungry. I went to the kitchen and got a snack. The kitchen is connected to the living room, and the living room has a door that leads outside.

Then there's the pantry. The pantry was a room that branched off of the kitchen and had no door. I was in the kitchen when (I swear I really say this) I saw a dark figure in it pick something up, turn to me, and disappear. I wanted to scream, but with the terror I was feeling all I could get out was "what the hell?" I went to go back to my room but the living room door slammed shut just as I walked towards it.

Once again, I felt something or someone breathe down my neck, causing me to flinch and jiggle the doorknob in desperation. Finally, after what felt like forever, the door opened and I ran to my room once again hiding. However I didn't sleep. I kept hearing footsteps on the porch. My mother blamed racoons but I don't think they could impersonate the sound of footsteps perfectly.

The next night I decided to try to sleep in the den, considering I never felt scared there. Foolish mistake. I laid there, restless, with my phone open to the ghost hunting app. Finally it picked up a signal. "Quintin", it said and it caused me to freeze. Quintin was my great grandfather's name. I felt so sick. I laid there praying that mom would wake up, when luckily it stopped. I don't know why but that was the last bit of activity in the house that I've seen. I'm glad we moved back out. Just seeing the house still makes me uncomfortable.