In 2007, when I was turning 11, I had a sleepover with my closest friends. It started off great, at 5:30 PM. We played party games, air hockey, ping-pong, and ate a delicious dinner that my dad home-cooked for us. Later that evening, at around 8:30-ish, I asked my friends if they wanted to turn off the hallway lights and try to find a ghost that night. I told them I was curious because that exact date was 50 years after the night someone died in our house. I think I heard that the person who died was a girl, about my age. Some of them said yes, but about three out of five of the girls said no.
I took the two that said they’d watch out with me into my bedroom to get some pillows, blankets, and a flashlight. Our hallway is quite long, so we put our pillows and blankets around the middle by my brothers bedroom door.
My friend Michelle said she was nervous, and my friend Kat said she was excited. I was half-excited, half-nervous. So after my friends situated themselves under their blankets and propped up their pillows behind their necks, I turned off the lights and hurried back to get under my blanket and prop up my own pillow.
We waited for about 20 minutes, but didn’t see anything. I told my friends that it was probably just a myth, that there wasn’t a girl who haunted this house.
As I got up, my mother and father’s bedroom door creaked open just a crack, letting in a faint wind. I hurried back to my blankets and didn’t mind that my pillow wasn’t straight under my back.
My friends and I stared at the door, and suddenly, it swung open, crashing into my mom’s Victorian dresser. I felt a strong wind, and I saw right through the door, a translucent figure, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I could tell it was from a little girl, because I saw the outline of long hair and a short dress.
Then, the door shut, leaving me and my friends in the dark. I turned on the flashlight and told my friends we should stop. It was getting late, and my parents wanted us to get ready for bed. We got up, and walked to my door, and put away our stuff, walked to the living room door, and told no one what had happened that night. Maybe someday.
By the way, this story is 100 percent true.
Sent in by Breanna Hall, Copyright 2009