I never thought I’d be the kind of person posting on NoSleep, but here I am.
I need to get this off my chest, and maybe someone out there has dealt with something similar.
God, I hope not, but I’m desperate for answers.
First, let me introduce myself.
I’m Jake, a 19-year-old college student living with my parents in a small town just outside of Portland, Oregon.
We’ve got a cozy two-story house on a quiet street, surrounded by towering pine trees.
It’s usually peaceful here, but for the past week, our nights have been anything but.
My mom, Sarah, is a high school English teacher. She’s always been the rational one in the family, with a no-nonsense attitude that usually keeps us grounded.
Dad, on the other hand, is Mike, a former Marine turned construction foreman.
He’s got that tough-guy exterior, but I’ve always known he’s a softie at heart, especially when it comes to me and Mom.
It all started last Tuesday. I was up late studying for a biology exam, my eyes burning from staring at my textbook for hours.
I glanced at my phone – 4:30 AM.
“Shit,” I muttered, realizing I’d have to be up for class in just a few hours.
That’s when I heard it – the distinct sound of our doorbell.
Who the hell would be ringing our doorbell at this hour?
I crept downstairs, my heart pounding. Our chihuahua, Scooby, was already at the door, growling softly.
I peeked through the peephole and felt my blood run cold.
There, illuminated by our porch light, stood an old woman.
She was thin, almost skeletal, with wispy white hair that seemed to float around her head like a halo.
Her skin was pale and wrinkled, hanging loosely on her face.
But it was her eyes that really freaked me out – they were completely black, like two empty voids staring straight at me.
“Jake? What’s going on?” Mom’s voice made me jump.
She’d come downstairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“There’s… there’s an old woman outside,” I stammered.
Mom frowned and gently nudged me aside to look for herself. Her sharp intake of breath told me she saw her too. Dad appeared moments later, his Marine training evident in his alert stance despite being woken up.
“Should we… should we open the door?” I asked hesitantly.
Mom shook her head.
“No, absolutely not. We don’t know who she is or what she wants at this hour.” Her teacher instincts kicked in immediately. “We need to document this,” she said, grabbing a notebook to jot down every detail.
Dad, meanwhile, went into full protection mode, checking every window and door lock twice.
“I’m calling the police,” he said, his voice gruff with concern.
While Mom dialed, I kept watch through the peephole. The old woman remained motionless, her arms hanging limply at her sides. It was like she was a statue, except for those eyes.
They seemed to follow my every movement, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.
The police arrived about 15 minutes later. As soon as their car pulled up, the old woman turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of our street.
The officers took our statement, but there wasn’t much they could do. No laws had been broken, and the woman was gone.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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