Be Afraid

What should have been a peaceful 3-bedroom house in a nice neighborhood turns into anything but. One person recounts their terrifying childhood experiences growing up in a haunted house.

They write into Real Ghost Stories Online the following.
“My earliest memories are of being afraid. These early memories are what I will share with you today.
I don’t know how long I saw things and had experiences, as I have no real recollection of life before these memories. It could have been happening since I was born, and I just don’t know. I believe that things had happened to me much earlier than I can remember, because I recall already being afraid, just not why I was afraid.
We had a small 3-bedroom house in a nice neighborhood. The house was not old and had no history, the rest of my family had nothing happen to them at this house. I don’t even recall things happening during the day, although it is possible. Really, my memories of this time in my life are just so completely dominated by what happened at night that I don’t remember much else.
I was excited because I had just “graduated” to a real bed, like a “big kid.” That excitement was tempered with fear, and I had a lot of conflict between that desire to grow up and not wanting to be alone.
Every night, my mom would tuck me into bed, and on her way out, she would leave my door open just a crack, with the light in the hall on for me. And every night, my door would slowly swing open and the hall light would turn off. A woman with long hair, wearing long flowing robes would float into my room and towards my bed. She glowed white – her skin, her hair, her clothing, everything was white, and the glow made it difficult to see details.”
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