The following report was sent into our website by Margie on May 15, 2010:
“I grew up and lived in an old apartment building for 15 years of my life. Ever since I was 10, I had begun to realize things occuring, mostly in the living room, small hallway and my room. At first, I believed I was being too paranoid, too many scary movies. However, I found that years later, this was not the case.
Sometimes, when it was late at night, I would wake up and catch glimpses of shadows dancing on the walls of my room. I dismissed these, assuming it was my exhaustion. However I could not dismiss my other occurances. At the age of 12, I had come to the conclusion that our apartment was haunted by a tall man with a black suit and black top hat, with facial hair. I knew he didn’t like us, and I knew that he could harm us if he wanted to. Sometimes, night or late afternoon, I would hear footsteps walking down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. The steps always stopped at my door. The first time I heard them, I kept my door closed most of the time. We had an old cat, as well. I watched her a lot, being curious but mostly bored. She saw things, she followed things.. and she hissed at things that I could not see. I had a best friend in the building, who I told my stories to, and she suggested we take pictures (which we did). In one of the pictures near the window, a transparent skull appared, resting on the kitchen table. There was nothing in the room that could have made that appear, I was sure because I took two pictures of each place and the skull only appeared once.
At the age of 13, I was chatting with my mother. We were alone in the apartment because my father was working late. We loved having small chats, joking around with each other, it was kind of like mother-daughter time. We got to talking about how long we’ve lived in where we were and old memories. Eventually, I had the guts to bring up what I felt to her. I told her that I sometimes felt threatened when alone, and that eyes were on me, (I left out what I had seen, in fear of being laughed off) and that I heard footsteps and talking that had surely not been the neighbours arguing. I told her that it scared me, and that I feared it would hurt me. I was relieved when she told me she felt the same things, and even told me the description of the man that I had seen. I was glad I wasn’t alone.
To this very day, I wonder just who was haunting us in that apartment, and why. I doubt I will ever know.”