Twelve

I'm going to start this off by stating this happened when I was a child and I'm not sure whether this was just all in my imagination or it actually happened.

My name is Christian, I'm 23 years old and I live in Sussex, England. I've lived there for most of my life, the reason being I lived in London until I was 12, then Brighton since I was 14. Wondering why I didn't stay in Brighton long? There's a reason, a damn good reason.

We arrived in Brighton at the new house, In which was totally different to the compact apartment in London, the house was old and at a cheap price. Probably the reason why my parents bought it. The house included 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom, living room and a dining room. Which is pretty basic. I was glad I moved considering I had no friends in London, I had the opportunity to make a fresh start.

My parents lead me to my room once we arrived and asked me to start unpacking my stuff. I'm going to tell you, that I didn't believe in ghosts as a kid, but the room felt eerie as shit.

Within days, my room had it's furniture: bed, desk and a box which held a few of my old toys and books. It made my room feel cosy. But the rooms atmosphere just didn't feel right. I tried to avoid my room whenever I could, obviously I had to go to sleep at night; I didn't want to tell my parents I hated my room, we'd only just moved in and it's probably just a feeling I got from being in a new environment.

It was around 9 o'clock when I went to bed. The room became extremely cold by night so I shut my window and door to conserve some heat. I lead in bed facing my door which was opposite my bed, I couldn't get to sleep, I tossed and turned for hours. I finally drifted off into a deep sleep.

It felt like I'd been asleep for hours before I woke up. I looked at the clock on my desk to see the time was 11:57. I thought a cold breeze had just got in, so I didn't think anything of it. I lay back down and tried to get back to sleep. It was useless. I stared at the clock and watched the hands pass by. It was midnight. I'd have to be getting up in eight hours and I've hardly had any sleep. I heard movement coming from the hallway, outside my door. The bathroom was to the left of my bedroom so I thought it was my mum or dad going to the toilet. I laid still for ages, listening to the movement outside the door. Whoever was out there wouldn't stop moving. I started to feel wide awake and I could realise that the moving didn't sound like footsteps, but scuttling or shuffling like an animal.

I was freaked out. I didn't want to get up and get my parents. I lay there motionless listening to whatever it was outside, I tried to convince myself that it was my mind playing tricks on me since I was tired from moving and not having any sleep.

I remember waking up around about nine in the morning since I overslept. I got out of bed and headed out to hallway and I froze in shock, there were claw marks at the door and on the carpet outside my door. It took me a second to become calm and head downstairs. My mum was in the kitchen and greeted me with some breakfast.

"Did you have a good sleep?" she asked as I sat down at the dining table. I nodded in return and ate my cereal as fast as I could.

The day passed and night soon returned, I had been dreading it the whole day, not wanting the same thing to happen. I shut my door and window and got into bed, I tried to get to sleep as fast as possible but nothing worked, I was too worried. It soon hit midnight, twelve o'clock. The shuffling returned. I froze, it couldn't be possible. I wanted to shout for my parents but I didn't want to let anything know I was in here. The shuffling and scratching continued until the break of dawn, then like magic it stopped. I didn't get any sleep, if you were wondering.

This continued for months, all the way past my birthday.

I wasn't ready for the same routine. I was feeling brave. I wanted to see what the fuck was behind my door, I guess the curiosity got the better of me.

Instead of shutting my door, I left it open. I knew there was no turning back once it hit twelve o'clock. I had a few hard back books at arms-reach for weaponry.

It happened, it hit twelve. I could feel the beads of sweat drip down my face. Something was moving in the hallway, I could hear the same shuffling I heard for months. My eyes started to adjust to the silhouette pacing back and fourth in the dark. I was scared out of my mind. I laid still hoping whatever it was wouldn't come closer. I was wrong, ever so slowly, it got closer and closer to my door. It looked like a small dog. Millions of questions were running through my mind, why would a dog be in my house? It eventually entered my room. I could see it clearly. It was a girl, she looked about 3, her hair was short and blonde but looked dirty and oily. Her skin was very pale and her eyes had no pupils. They looked like 2 white holes on her face. The scariest part was her mouth, a constant smile, like somebody had carved it onto her face. I didn't see her teeth. But I guessed they looked like daggers. She wasn't stood up, she was crouched down, I noticed her nails, they were sharp and pointed but had a yellow tint and had chips and cracks in them. She was at the foot of my bed, I couldn't take it, I let out a scream and the girl looked at me, she started approaching me quicker than ever, suddenly, the hall lights came on and my mother came rushing in. She cradled me and asked what was wrong. I said it was a nightmare. I looked around, the girl wasn't anywhere to be seen.In the morning, my mother and father decided we needed to move, I wasn't getting any sleep. The cheapest house my parents could find was in Sussex. Within a few weeks, we had packed our stuff and were ready to head off. I looked at the house as the car was ready to go, and there she was, stood at the front door, watching me.It's been nearly 10 years now and I have to say I've heard over a 100 reports of families seeing a little girl in their house and being killed weeks later. I'm glad we moved in time.