Childhood Story

Now the story you're about to read is not in any way me trying to scare you. I wanted to write this because it has to do with my childhood, and I just recently found out that what happened is really unnerving for me. Excuse me for my poor grammar as English is not my native language. It will be a pretty boring read as I am going to describe as much as possible, but I will tell you the creepy part at the end.

I am 26 years old, and I live in a city called Breda in The Netherlands. I have lived here my entire life. I lived in a detached house when I was a kid. It was a pretty big house, but it was really old. I never knew my dad, my mom told me a while ago that he was an alcoholic and that he had mistreated my mom before I was born. He left my mom and me while I was still a baby and she has never seen him since.

She never got into another relationship again, so it was just me and my mom who lived in the house. I love her very much and she has been a great mom. I slept in the attic where I had everything a child could have asked for. I remember that I had a small tv, this must be when I was 10 or 11 years old, on which I always watched cartoons and movies before going to bed. It had one of these timers which you could put on for a certain time, and after that the TV would shut off automatically.

My mom slept one floor below me, as my house had three floors (the attic being the third floor). I would get in bed at 9 o'clock, but I was allowed to watch TV for half an hour before I was going to sleep. She would put the timer on 30 minutes. She would then go to the living room to read a book or watch tv.

After the 30 minutes, I always reset the timer, so I could watch another 30 minutes. And I would do this until I heard my mom coming upstairs to go to bed. She usually went to bed at 10:30 p.m. I would then turn off my TV and listen to her preparing herself for bed. I couldn't really hear her closing her bedroom door, as there was a wall between my room and the stairs to my room. I therefore just waited a few minutes assuming she would be in bed, then I would turn on the tv again but with the volume off.

I always did this, until my mom caught me once. The batteries of the remote controller were low so the mute button didn't work properly. She sneaked up to my room and got mad, and for some time I wasn't allowed to watch TV before going asleep anymore. I would still do it though. But I would wait a longer time before I turned my TV back on when she would go to bed, as I was afraid that she would catch me doing it again.

After about 45 minutes I sometimes would hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and because of the house being so old this would make a squeaky sound. I would then quickly turn off my TV and pretend that I was sleeping. I could feel my heart beating as the squeaky sound got louder. I would then hear my bedroom door opening but I would be too afraid to open my eyes. The door would eventually close again, and I could hear footsteps going down the stairs. This happened a few times.

Yesterday I told my mom about this when I was visiting her with my wife, I thought about it as we were talking about my childhood. I asked her if she remembered her checking on me to make sure I wasn't watching TV and that I would pretend I was asleep. I hoped that she would remember, and that we could laugh about it together. But what she said creeped me out so much that it gave me reason to write this story. She said that she remembered very clearly how that she caught me watching TV, but that she always went asleep right away after she went upstairs to her room. She never came into my room to check on me after that. This means that whoever came into my room after these 30 to 45 minutes, wasn't my mom. Someone has been inside of our house looking at me thinking I was asleep, and all this time I thought it was just my mom.

She freaked out aswell when I told her this, but we both know we can't do anything about it anymore. So when I got home, I started writing this, so that I could atleast tell my story to some people.