It was shortly after I moved into an apartment complex called Showadai.
When I was sorting through my belongings one by one from the cardboard boxes after the move, I found a familiar graduation photo album.
It was from junior high school.
I guess I had a habit of putting photos and other things together by type.
Between the pages of that graduation photo album were several photos I remembered taking in junior high school.
I took a break from sorting through my luggage and looked at the photos one by one, soaking in the memories.
I picked them up one by one and looked at them, and when I picked up one of the photos, I felt a strange sensation.
I was not psychic at all, but I had a thought process that a photograph = a psychic photograph.
I guess it was a combination of these assumptions that made me think, “Wow, this is really bad.”
I remember saying, “Wow, this is really scary!” I think they might have called it psychic inspiration.
The picture is just me and my five friends all together.
I looked around for any other a psychic photograph, but there were none.
So I showed it around to my family.
My wife is the type of person who believes such stories.
She said, “This looks like a face,” or “The whole picture is kind of foggy,” but I ignored her.
I should have just moved out and taken a vacation, but it was just a busy time of year at the office.
I tried my best until late at night to somehow finish packing my stuff as soon as possible.
I took a bath and brushed my teeth around 2 or 3 a.m., but the feeling that something was watching me kept coming back.
I had just moved into a new house, and I was very scared, thinking, “Is there really a ghost in this house?”.
Then one week.
Nothing happened, but I felt that the bad feeling was getting stronger and stronger.
At first it was like a sixth sense, like I felt like I was being watched.
I heard footsteps following me like they do in the hallway.
I felt something coming to the door of my room when I was in my room (I did feel that the footsteps stopped in front of my room).
Anyway, I had this feeling that someone was watching me the whole time I was at home.
One day, about two weeks passed like that. The biggest fear of my life hit me.
I worked overtime that day, came home late at night.
After taking a bath and eating dinner, I went to the sink to brush my teeth and go to bed.
When I was brushing my teeth in front of the sink, I was looking at my face in the mirror while brushing my teeth.
I was brushing my teeth in front of the sink, looking at my face in the mirror, when I noticed that the shadow behind me seemed darker.
I could tell how dark the shadow behind me was when the light from the sink shone on me.
But it was different and darker than usual.
I sobered up at once. Seriously.
Someone was right behind me.
There is someone right behind me.
I feel like it is only as tall as my shoulder. I felt something like a sniffle hit my back.
Anyway, I knew it was not a person.
There should only be room for one person between me and the wall.
So, if it wasn’t touching me, then it must have been either stuck in the wall or a so-called “ghost”.
I could see IT’s long black hair around my left arm.
If I tried to run away, I could see IT’s face reflected in the mirror.
My instinct was to avoid looking at IT’s face.
I knew instantly that if I saw IT, I would either die of shock on the spot or live in fear and trembling for the rest of my life.
I closed my eyes and dashed back to my room.
I closed the door to my room, got under the covers, and shivered the whole time.
Then I heard a sound like my face rubbing against the door.
I could hear her breathing, and I could see her breath hitting the door.
For the first time in my life, I experienced a blackout. When I came to, it was morning.
I don’t know if my feelings of “please don’t do this again, I’ve been through such a scary experience” got through or not, but I never saw the IT again.
The woman (or something like her) didn’t appear again.
So what was that all about? If the story had ended here, I would have been fine with it, even if I didn’t understand it.
Unfortunately, there is an ending.
When I arrived home and was sorting through my stuff, I came across this picture.
I now have it at the temple because of my wife’s insistence, but it is (or wasn’t) an unremarkable picture.
After things had settled down, I had a chance to look at it, and as I looked around, there was a difference that even an amateur could clearly see.
It was supposed to be me and five of my friends, but it was me and four of my friends.
The center of the picture was unnaturally open, not a mistake, but it was empty, as if someone had been there.
My friend put his hand on the empty space (just as if he was putting his hand on my shoulder).
It was an unnatural pose that I don’t know how the friend didn’t fall down.
One of the people in that pockmarked area was the woman standing behind me.
She must have slipped out of the picture.
Sure enough, the friend had hanged herself a few years earlier.
Why did he kill himself?
I don’t want to believe why, and I don’t want to believe what I experienced, so I won’t go into details.
I heard that it wasn’t caused by anyone from this world.
