It’s been a while since we had a First Person Friday story to publish around here. This one comes to us by way of Jules V Ness.
After what I have learned to call The Lennox Haunting, a haunted house that I lived in terror in for thirty eight days total, we vacated the property and moved to a different home on the outskirts of Lennox.
I thought the hell was over, but I was dead wrong. Sometimes hell does not leave, it just lays dormant, waiting and watching for that exact slice in time when you’re vulnerable. That’s the moment it comes again and lets you know that you are human, and it is not. Here is part of my story.
I had walked upstairs to retrieve something from my bedroom, when I heard a commotion in the bathroom. It was impossible, I was home alone. I had left the bathroom door open with the light out, but the door was now closed and I could see light filtering out from beneath it. I slowly approached it.
I laid my hand on the door knob, not being sure if I had the guts to actually open it. My heart was beating so hard by then I could hear it echoing in my ears. I paused there a moment. I slowly took my hand back off of the door knob and crept back to the hall closet.
My ex husband had left his old set of golf clubs there for our son, Dominick to use. I opened the closet door slowly and as quietly as I could. I reached in and quietly pulled out the first one I felt. I was still watching the bathroom door, never taking my eyes off of it fearing it would suddenly open and some stranger would come charging at me.
I retrieved the club and quietly closed the door. I felt so much better from the feel of the cold metal of in my hand. I headed back down the hall to the bathroom door. I stood beside of it listening for any movement.
I could not hear anything in there, not so much as a breath. I was actually starting to get angry. I felt I had been through enough of this shit. I took a deep breath and turned the handle, pushing hard, almost throwing the door with enough force that I knew the handle would dent the wall. The door banged loudly as it did precisely that, leaving a round imprint. The pressure was so great from the door that the shower curtain blew away from the tub; its movement startled me.
“Who’s in here?” I asked in a very unfriendly tone, raising the golf club into the air, ready to strike if I had to.
My voice echoed loudly throughout the bathroom. I heard a bit of a sound, like wind escaping or maybe it seemed more like a long deep breath. I held mine. I wanted to hear everything. I was getting tired of the fear, of the seemingly endless games. I just knew in my heart that something was there, and whatever it was, it was definitely messing with me.
I saw the shower curtain flutter again, as though there was a breeze passing through it, even though there were no windows in the bathroom. I stood my ground even though my heart was thumping so hard I could feel it moving my chest with each beat.
I walked over to shower curtain. It was almost completely drawn closed. I slowly reached for it, grabbed the edge of it, and then quickly, I pulled it completely open. The tub was empty. I let out a long sigh of relief, and then took a couple more long deep breaths, exhaling very slowly. It helped to slow my heartbeat down to a more comfortable level.
I stepped in front of the vanity to look into the mirror. My eyes looked like those of a crazed maniac holding a golf club in the air. I stared at myself just shaking my head at myself.
“What is your deal today Jolene?” I said sternly to my reflection as if it could actually answer me.
Then I heard a raspy, very loud whisper directly into left my ear as though someone was standing very close, right next to me.
“ARE YOU SCARED?”
The voice came from seemingly nowhere. I could see from my reflection in the mirror there was no one standing beside me. It startled me so much my knees buckled, had I not grabbed the edge of the vanity to steady myself, I would certainly have fallen to the floor.
The voice I heard had such a mean tone that it had chilled me to the bone. I felt a cold rush of air on the side of my head as though someone was breathing icy breaths on my cheek. I could even feel the pause between breaths. The suddenness of it had startled me so much I had dropped my golf club. I quickly bent down to retrieve my precious weapon even though I could not see anyone to use it on, it still felt very good in my hand.
I straightened back up and saw myself in the mirror. I knew my reflection was telling me that I was standing there by myself but I still couldn’t help glancing directly beside me and all around the room.
I was alone in the room. I laid my hand to my cheek where I had felt the breaths. My cheek was very cold to the touch.
I glanced back at my reflection one more time and for a moment, just for a thousandth of a second I thought I saw another face looking back at me. It was not a face of a normal person. It was distorted, as if I were looking into one of those weird mirrors in the fun house at a carnival, and then it was gone again.
It was so quick, I could not be absolutely sure if it had actually been there at all. I continued staring into the mirror; I was in too much shock to move right at that moment.
It finally dawned on me to move my feet and get myself away from the mirror. I really did not want to see anymore if I could prevent it. I was shook up enough.
I ran out of the bathroom pulling the door shut behind me. I headed for the stairs. I didn’t know where I was running to at that moment; all I remember was that I needed to get some distance between myself and that bathroom.
If you would like to read more, check out the “look inside” of BEYOND THE LENNOX HAUNTING, The Haunting of Me (Volume 2) on Amazon. This is based on a true story that began in a home I had lived in a few years beforehand in the town of Lennox.
Courtney Mroch is a globe-trotting restless spirit who’s both possessed by wanderlust and the spirit of adventure, and obsessed with true crime, horror, the paranormal, and weird days. Perhaps it has something to do with her genes? She is related to occult royalty, after all. Marie Laveau, the famous Voodoo practitioner of New Orleans, is one of her ancestors. (Yes, really! As explained here.) That could also explain her infatuation with skeletons.
Speaking of mystical, to learn how Courtney channeled her battle with cancer to conjure up this site, check out HJ’s Origin Story.