Unsettling Desires: Old House 5

Unsettling Desires: Old House 5

This tranquility lasted for about two weeks before strange incidents resurfaced, initially in subtle ways. While perusing my mother's music albums, I noticed a black figure dart behind me swiftly. Though it startled me, I dismissed it as a fleeting imagination. Occasional moments where an entire room appeared engulfed in darkness were also brushed aside. However, the situation deteriorated. Paranoia crept back into my nights, intensifying my fear during sleep. I'd lie awake, scanning my room for hours, convinced that not vigilantly watching over the darkness would leave me vulnerable to something dreadful. Going to bed became a daily dread, and my only solace lay in the light emitted by the television and the faint glow of the bathroom light through my doorway. Yet, at this point, my fear seemed baseless. The real anomalies manifested as subtle occurrences during the day: a persistent sensation of being watched, occasional misplaced items, and sudden discomfort when alone in a room. These were aspects I knew my parents would dismiss with phrases like "It's just your imagination" or "Stop finding things to scare you." I echoed these rationalizations to myself, attempting to approach the situation as an eight-year-old would. Despite my conscious efforts, an underlying feeling of unsafety persisted, as if something unsettling within the house was growing bolder.
One evening, engrossed in a video game, I decided to wrap it up as darkness descended, anticipating dinner soon. My wired controller hung from a hook in my room. As I placed it on the hook, a shocking incident unfolded. It felt as if two other hands immediately seized the controller and its wire, violently jerking it left, right, left, right. In a split second, I bolted from my room, driven by the sole thought of reaching my parents for safety. Finding them in the living room, my father, lounging on the couch, scolded me for running like a "spaz." Despite contemplating revealing the incident, I knew they wouldn't want to hear it. Instead, I apologized, watched television, had dinner, and delayed returning to my room as long as possible. Attempting to sleep in the living room, I was nudged back to my room by my mom. My heart pounded as I entered. The gaming controller, once on the left, now hung on the right side. Though seemingly insignificant in hindsight, it was terror-inducing at that moment.
Retreating to bed, I played cartoons on the television as loudly as I could and remained vigilant, scanning my room with heightened paranoia. The sense of wrongness and impending danger lingered, as if I were a sheep unknowingly lying next to a wolf. Despite its presence, nothing transpired that night. Sleep became increasingly elusive, impacting my ability to function normally. School became a struggle, frustrating my parents with my perpetual absentmindedness. Nightmares blurred with reality, adding to the mounting terror. It seemed that my inability to distinguish between imagination and reality played into its hands.
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