WHEN my aunt and I first came to reside in this town we rented for a
short time a self-contained, furnished flat in one of the old houses
here—one that had no doubt seen better days.
Our flat was the top one, having only unfurnished, and dilapidated
attics above it, and was completely cut off from the lower tenants.
We used the attics as lumber rooms and, strangely enough, both of us
felt an inexplicable feeling of horror when in them even in broad
daylight.
My aunt and I occupied separate bedrooms, but always slept with our
doors slightly ajar.
One night (it was somewhere about midnight) I was awakened by my aunt
calling me. I ran into her room, which was next to mine, and found her
sitting up in bed in terror, declaring that she had seen a dark figure
standing by the bedside looking down at her. She had spoken, thinking
that I had come to her for some reason, and had been horrified to find
the figure fade away, and that she had to call me several times to
awaken me from sleep in the other room. We could find no way to
account for this, and next day were inclined to laugh at ourselves for
our nervous terror. But, a few weeks after, I had a similar
experience.
I was doing a piece of embroidery work as a gift for my aunt and, not
wishing her to see it, and being rather pushed for time, after
retiring to bed one night I re-lit my candle and sat up to continue my
sewing. It was just about midnight and, after stitching away for a few
minutes, I heard as I thought, my aunt moving in her room, come out
of the door and along the passage. My bed was facing away from the
door, but I turned my head and saw the door being pushed open. I then
blew out the candle, not wishing her to see what I was doing. I heard
her come in and stand behind me, and I said: “What's the matter? Is
anything wrong?” On getting no reply, I again lit my candle and found
no one in the room and everything silent. I went into my aunt’s room
to find her fast asleep in bed.
Not being easily frightened, I started to work again the following
night, but exactly the same thing occurred, and when, on the third
night, this was again repeated, I made no further attempts at midnight
sewing.
We could find no explanation whatever, and as it was during very calm
weather, we could not attribute anything to the wind.
The tenants of the lower flats had no such experiences, but I feel
sure that there was some strange and uncanny influence that proceeded
from those attics and on occasion found their way into our flat.
Fortunately we had taken the rooms for only a short time, and were
glad to move to a different part of the town. We have never since
experienced such a thing.