This story took place when I was young,
either at my house or my grandparents' house.
We lived just five minutes away from each other.
In either case, my house was built on the site of an ancient vineyard,
while my grandparents' house was purchased from a previous owner, with no known history.
My first disturbing experiences began when I was young.
Before that, I had only experienced nocturnal terrors and nightmares,
but nothing out of the ordinary.
Despite growing up in a Catholic family,
I had never been taught about the existence of spirits.
To me, ghosts were just the cartoon characters with white drapes and two holes for eyes.
I had no idea that human souls could potentially linger on Earth.
My mother always said that good souls went to heaven and bad souls went to hell, and I never questioned it.
Death and the paranormal didn't interest me much as a child.
My mother didn't truly believe in the paranormal, and my dad was even more skeptical.
It all started when I was nine and had to move to the upstairs room in my house
because my mom discovered she was pregnant again.
At first, I couldn't sleep in the room.
There was always a heavy, watchful atmosphere,
and I felt extremely cold even in the midst of summer, when the weather was scorching hot.
Until I turned eleven, I spent most of my time downstairs in the living room
or in my little sister's room, which used to be my bedroom.
Eventually, I gathered the courage to move back to my own room,
but things took a turn for the worse.
Initially, it was just strange noises.
Every evening, as soon as my father turned off the TV to go to bed, I would hear noises in the living room.
The light switch would flick on or off, creating a specific noise that I couldn't explain.
My father's gaming chair would wheel around,
sounding like someone was running barefoot on the ground,
and it seemed as if children were running everywhere.
There were other peculiar sounds too, like someone sweeping with a broom.
One evening, I distinctly heard someone quickly climbing the stairs.
Thinking it was my brother, I stepped out of my bedroom,
but there was no one there.
On several occasions, I felt as if someone was touching me while I lay in bed.
I would feel a heavy weight on the bed, and at times, even someone's breath on my face.
Needless to say, I was terrified, and I remember crying in fear when I felt hot breath on my face.
Items in the house began disappearing as well.
Some of my clothes, my sister's shirts, a karaoke microphone that my mom had placed in the dressing room,
and even an entire file of papers from our car,
which my mom had left in plain sight because we were planning to sell it.
Shoelaces and various other objects also mysteriously vanished.
My mom, who wasn't a true believer in such things, admitted to experiencing odd occurrences herself.
She heard strange noises, witnessed doors opening on their own,
and once, she swore she saw my brother running outside in our garden.
When she opened the window to call him for lunch,
my brother responded from his bedroom, leaving her puzzled and bewildered.
We both heard peculiar noises coming from the rooftop,
as if people were running around up there.
Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the house,
and my mom even claimed to hear noises coming from my bed at 4 a.m.
when I was fast asleep.
She said it sounded like loud footsteps, as if someone were tidying up the room.
I considered the possibility of sleepwalking, but I never moved furniture or rearranged things while asleep.
The next morning, I would often notice that objects were not in the same place where I had left them.
The first major event occurred at my house when I was fourteen, during the Easter holidays.
My siblings were away, and it was just my mom, dad, and me.
On a sunny afternoon, while my dad was working in one part of the garden and I was reading with my mom in another,
I decided to go prepare a peanut butter sandwich.
I opened the living room window and walked through it, continuing straight ahead.
On the left, there was a door that was always open, leading to the kitchen.
As I was almost done preparing my sandwich,
I heard the window leading to the garden open.
I assumed it was my mom going out to talk to my dad, so I didn't pay much attention.
I closed the peanut butter jar and returned to my seat.
It took me about 15 seconds, walking slowly, to come back to the place where I had left my seat.
To my surprise, I found my mom sitting there, reading her book.
How could she be there when she was on the other side of the garden just ten seconds ago?
The only way she could have reached her seat faster than me was by going through the living room.
However,
if she had turned left through the open door,
I would have seen her walking by from the corner of my eye.
I asked her if she had just gone through the living room,
but she denied it, saying she had been sitting there the entire time.
That incident left me feeling uneasy,
but it wasn't until a few weeks later that things escalated further.
It was a stormy night, and I was home alone.
My parents had gone out for a dinner party,
and my siblings were away for the weekend.
I was sitting in the living room, watching TV
and trying to forget about the eerie occurrences that had been happening in our house.
Suddenly, there was a power outage,
and the house was plunged into darkness.
Feeling a mix of fear and curiosity, I lit a candle and decided to explore the house.
As I made my way through the pitch-black hallways,
I heard whispers coming from one of the rooms upstairs.
The sound was barely audible, but it sent shivers down my spine.
I slowly climbed the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.
The whispers grew louder as I approached the room at the end of the hallway.
With trembling hands, I pushed open the door and entered the room.
To my horror, I saw shadows moving around the walls, whispering in hushed voices.
The room felt icy cold, and an oppressive atmosphere filled the air.
I couldn't make out what the shadows were saying, but their presence was suffocating.
Suddenly, the whispers stopped, and the room fell silent.
I stood frozen, my eyes darting around the room, searching for any sign of movement.
Then, without warning, the shadows converged in the center of the room,
forming a dark, swirling mass.
I watched in terror as the mass grew larger and more menacing.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, I turned and ran out of the room,
down the stairs, and out of the house.
I didn't stop until I was standing outside, gasping for breath and trying to make sense of what had just happened.
I looked back at the house,
its windows dark and foreboding.
When my parents returned home, I told them about what I had experienced.
They listened intently and comforted me,
assuring me that they would look into it.
We decided to consult a paranormal investigator who specialized in cleansing and purifying haunted spaces.
The investigator visited our house and performed various rituals to cleanse the energy and remove any lingering spirits.
After the cleansing, the strange occurrences gradually ceased.
The whispers, the disappearing objects,
and the eerie atmosphere were gone.
Our house returned to a sense of normalcy,
and I no longer felt the presence of something lurking in the shadows.
But To this day,
I don't know what caused those strange happenings in our house.
Was it the restless spirits of the past?
Or was it something else entirely?
It remains a mystery, but one thing is certain:
that experience opened my eyes to the existence of a world beyond our own,
where whispers from the shadows
can send chills down your spine.