It all started when my grandpa died in 2004. I remember the funeral and burial so clearly. I always thought that he was going to pop out of his coffin and just walk away but, of course, nothing like that happened. I was only four at the time and wasn't old enough to understand that he wasn't coming back.
I lived in a big house at the time, and it was easy to get lost. About a month or two after my grandpa's death, I remember getting lost in the long, curvy hallways. I think I was in one of the spare bedrooms when an old man with a top hat came in and told me that he was my grandpa. I didn't really believe him so I asked him a really stupid question like what was my grandpa's favorite color. After staring at me blankly for about thirty seconds, he got furious at me and made a horribly ugly face. His eyes sunk into his skull until they were just black holes and his nose grew a few inches and twisted rapidly. I was about to wail and bawl when he noticed me and went back to "normal." He told me to follow him to get a very special toy. Being the little kid I was, I followed him until he jumped over the stairs and down two stories. I was about to jump when my mother grabbed and scolded me. After she was done, I looked down the stairs and the man was nowhere to be seen.
That night, I was getting in the bathtub when the man appeared again. He talked and talked to me about himself, but the only thing I can remember him saying was that he always would be watching me in case I did anything wrong. Weeks passed with him visiting me in the bathtub, and he would always try to make me hold my breath underwater. But I remember my parents telling me not to do that, so I told him no. Once when I said no, he made that face again but this time he showed me his teeth. There had to be over a hundred teeth in his mouth. There was no way I couldn't cry at that face, so I screamed and ran into my mother's room. When she asked me what was wrong, I told her the old man in the hat was watching me again. She seemed unnerved and checked the bathroom and the man wasn't there.
One night, when I was sleeping, the man came again and brought something with him. I asked him what he brought because I could not see what was behind his back in the dim light. When I asked him, he asked me what my grandpa's name was. When I told him what it was (Roman, which is also my name) he said it was his name too. When I asked about the box again, he finally showed me what was in it; a bottle of Windex. He told me it was delicious and to take a drink of it. He then took a sip of the bottle himself. When he handled it to me, I said I was too tired and turned around to face the other side of my room. He was there as well! I jumped and ran out of my room. Before I even reached the hallway, I bumped into the man, and he started to grow taller and taller. I tried to push him away but right before my hand touched him, he disappeared. I ran all the way to my parents' room and was crying when I jumped into their bed. I couldn't talk until the morning, and even when I told them that the man told me to drink Windex, they didn't believe me and scolded me about trying to drink the cleaner.
Years passed and I had a brother, and my mother was pregnant with my sister. My dad wasn't making a lot of money, so we had to sell our house and move to a smaller house. The night before we moved, I saw the man again. I saw him in a long corridor and waved to him. He didn't wave back, but started to run toward me. I started to run away, but he was faster and caught up with me. He turned me around and said things that I couldn't understand, but I know now that he was probably saying threats about my family and I. When he released me, I ran into my parents' room again and slept with them for another night.
When I was in the car about to leave, the man was in a window. He wasn't looking at me or the car, but was looking at the graveyard behind the car, which I never really visited. Before my family left, I asked my dad (who was a horror fanatic) to see the graveyard. Of course, he said yes and we went to the graveyard. I was hoping to see the grave of the old man, but instead there was a family grave that my father pointed out. It was the original owners of the house. He said that the family lived in the house around the late 1800's. He did some research about the family and said that the family were all found dead in their beds while they were sleeping, except for their one son who was found dead in a potato sack around one mile from the house.
Bonus Excerpt: My mother told me that when I was older, she heard a faint dragging noise every night in that house!