The newlyweds spent the first time in their new home. It was quite cosy, but still felt foreign.
The wife Jessy was in the living room looking through an old box of books she found in the basement. Most were dusty and worn. She had to blow the covers off before she could read them. The fifth book she picked up was a maroon colored dairy. On the front cover was written "Jerald P." it was the last owner of the house.
She opened it, and flipped the pages. There was only one entry, it was at the beginning.
She read it aloud to her husband Ron, who was repositioning chairs in the dining room behind her.
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February first, 1995.
It's been about five months now; since I last saw them that is. It's really hard to write this down, for it brings back such an awful feeling. It's like it was a dream. I still question whether it really was or not. But they still bump from time to time just to remind me I was awake.
It was September. It was hard to sleep as I was laying in my bed. The damn place was just too eerie feeling. I thought I heard things in the kitchen. Tapping and stuff. I got up the guts after an hour or so and went out of my room, and started down the hall. The kitchen was just around the right corner. The noises had stopped just as I opened my bedroom door. I flipped on the hall light, and went around not really expecting to see anything. But I did. These three things. I don't even know how to tell you what they looked like. I think they were kind of glowing, or something. Blue maybe. But I do remember what they did. As I was standing there in shock they just scooted down the hallway, and into the basement. God knows why I followed them, but I did. I found them in a wardrobe, I ran over and shut and locked them in.
I never told anyone this, so if you're reading it, just don't open the doors. Keep them locked in there, please.
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Jessy and Ron never did open that wardrobe. And they did hear the bumps.
- Joey
