In the Vent

Have you ever had the feeling of being watched?  Of course, everyone has had that feeling once in their lives. But instead of ignoring it, have you ever tried to do a bit more research on it? Have you ever actually tried to find out what caused that feeling?

You see, when I was about two years old I moved from my old house in Halifax, Nova Scotia, to the tiny island of Newfoundland. Of course, being two years old, I had no say in the topic.

I lived in this house for 16 years and I still can't help but to continue to feel uneasy. When I was in preschool - well, let's just say, I was never quite the same after what I had experienced.

In the last room at the end of the hall upstairs was our "fun room", as we called it. It was filled with all my toys and one of our only TV's. In the top corner of the room, next to the door there was a vent. Nothing scary about that, right? Well, one day after playing with some of my army toys, I started getting a little hyper.

I was jumping and running, pretty much trying to get myself to calm down so I could settle in with milk and a movie. But it was during this time that I saw... it. To this day, I still can't remember how I could reach my head up to see inside the vent - heck, even at the age of 13 I could reach there. But somehow, at age five, I looked directly into the vent.

Nothing could have prepared me for the outcomes. A set of two huge, gaping, black eyes looked at me directly. Every time I think about it, I get chills running throughout my body. These eyes were yellow and resembled almost that of a cat, if it wasn't for the fact that they had almost human-like pupils.

I screamed as loud as I could yelling, "Mommy!" or, "Daddy!". The scream was bloodcurdling, and I couldn't help to wonder what my parents thought at the time, hearing their precious baby yelling like someone had grabbed him and was dragging him away against his will. By the time they got up though, I was already hiding in the blankets. They must have thought I was nuts or going through some sort of phase, because when they looked in the vent nothing was there. After this experience I would always cover my head with blankets when I sleep, believing that if I covered my body it could not stare at me through the vent.

The worst thing about it was that the vents connected throughout the house so every room I was in, it could be sitting there, watching me. Years after, when our "fun room" was changed into a theater with a gigantic TV to make up for those years we could not afford much, I still felt as if someone - or something - was staring at me. Through the vent. Even when we watched movies I slouched my head down below the seat to make sure it could not see me.

Maybe at this point I was just being paranoid but my natural instincts told me to be on my guard at all times. In fact, if I look, I don't see shit. Nothing is in those damn vents but I can't help but to feel scared. Many years went by and my only brother moved to go to college, so during the nights it got creepier knowing he wasn't in the room beside mine. I later moved my stuff and took his room because it was much, much bigger than mine. But when my brother comes home for the weekend he sleeps in my old room, now the guest room. I stayed in my brother's room for I don't know how long now, but just a few nights ago things felt... off.

That feeling I had as a kid came back to haunt me. I hadn't been concerned with the supposed "eyes" in years. But my suspicions weren't of the vent, but of the figure behind me. A white blurry figure will always be behind me. Whenever I come out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me, or whenever I look into a dark corner. It's always the same shape of a little girl wearing a white dress and with black hair covering her eyes. So at age 15 I got fed up with it all and decided to get proof that it wasn't all in my head.

I never told anybody, not even my own parents, out of fear of being called a "loony". I quickly grabbed my camcorder and started to film my entire house, alone. It was terrifying to walk around an empty house, so I got my dog to follow me downstairs and started talking over the video just to calm me down a little. As I reviewed the tape in my front living room sitting down on the couch, I noticed something off about the footage.

When I started to walk upstairs from entering the kitchen, over to where this living room was, I saw the same little girl wearing a white dress appear behind the plant watching me up walk up the stairs. At first, I thought it was light from the window but when I tried it again the light showed no image at all - not even a lens flare. Upon realizing what happened I ran out of the house and decided to stay at a friend's place.

I uploaded the video to YouTube, though nobody really cared. I also posted it on Facebook but my Facebook friends only mocked me, saying they didn't see anything and that I sounded so high in the video that I must be doing drugs, but it was the truth. Even my own parents made fun of the video and my dad asked to help me work on my next fake ghost video, where he would flick switches on behind me. But of course I denied.

After several weeks of making videos I removed them from YouTube. I thought it was best for everyone if I just left it all alone, until I opened an old book of mine that I bought at a school yard sale that teaches one how to catch ghosts.

Everything about it seemed fake; the pictures were fake ghost pictures from the internet and cheap Dollerama ghost-catching plastic toys. The one thing that caught my eye, however, was the book itself. Although the book's only purpose was for companies to make money off cheap ghost books for nerdy ghost catchers to buy, it still taught me a lot about ghosts. It explained to me why my dog always acted weird around cameras and ceilings, and how this thing was either connected to me or the house in some way.

I would have been clueless unless if it wasn't until I saw it. One day during midnight I saw the sun's beam form a face on the wall. It didn't make any sense how light from the sun could be around at 12:00 am it's just not possible. I could not scream or move in any way, my heart just continued to beat and beat and beat until I blacked out. The next morning I awoke to the pleasantries of being in my bed with the lights off and the face gone. You would think it was just a nightmare but for some strange reason I had a feeling it was real.

The face reminded me of my dead uncle, who lost his life in a freak flood before I was born. Knowing this I remember all those stories my Nana and Pop told around the fire of how my cousin was talking to her father in the sky at the age of five, around the same time I witnessed the eyes in the vent. I knew it was all connected but the one thing I didn't get was what that little girl had to do with all this. I guess sometimes it's better to ignore that feeling of being watched.

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