This is a true story I experienced two years ago on June 14.
It happened in my former apartment.
That day, I was tired from my part-time job and was sound asleep.
It was a little after 3:30 a.m. when I was awakened by a strange “rattling” sound.
Too early for newspapers…? I thought, but I was sleepy, so I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep.
But the sound didn’t stop for a long time.
Suspicious, I sat up and looked toward the front door.
Squinting my eyes, still unaccustomed to the darkness, I stared at the doorway and saw something moving around the newspaper rack.
Feeling a chill run down my spine, I willed myself to get out of bed.
I got up out of bed, feeling a chill down my spine, and approached the front door, which was still making a rattling sound.
I was speechless when I saw the scene at the front door.
A pale hand was reaching from the newspaper stand to the doorknob, and it was moving up and down the doorknob relentlessly.
I stood there, exclaiming, “What!”
The pale hand began to bend in an unbelievable direction.
It reached the closed lock on the doorknob and started twirling its wrist in an attempt to open the lock.
Scared, I stabbed the hand repeatedly with the tip of the plastic umbrella that was propped up.
I could feel the realistic sensation of flesh moving through the umbrella, but as I continued to thrust with all my might, the hand suddenly retracted, and I felt it move back to its original position.
The hand suddenly became silent.
There was no sign of anyone outside the front door, and when I looked through the peephole, there was no sign of anyone.
That day I covered myself with the futon and shivered as I went to sleep.
When I woke up in the evening and fearfully approached the front door to go to my part-time job, I found numerous small round marks on the doorway.
They were the marks of the tip of the umbrella that I must have repeatedly stabbed into the pale hands yesterday.
I was sure I had stabbed only my hand. Not once did I hear a metallic sound, nor did I feel anything like that.
(The landlord was really pissed at me…. I had to pay for it).
But that was not the only strange thing.
There were footprints on the outside of the house that clearly indicated that someone had stood facing the front door. And they were covered in mud.
It hadn’t rained that day or the day before, and there were no footprints or even mud on the stairs.
Two weeks after that incident, I moved into my current apartment.
Even now, I sometimes jump up and down, dreaming about that day.
Was it a ghost? Or was it a stalker?
At the time, I was really scared to death.
