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This story is a two part both taking place in my childhood. As I said before I've experienced things as long as I can remember, which my memory is quite extensive. The first part took place in a town called brilliant. My family and I lived in a duplex when I was two years old up until I was three. Yes, I know some don't start containing memory until after this age but not in my case. I guess you could say it is because of the type of memories.

It was morning and my mother was hassling with my older sister to get ready for school, my sister's worst nightmare you could say. My sister and I shared a room at the time. I was playing in our up stairs bedroom while Amy (my sister) was fixing her hair. She finished quickly and left he room. As she did the bedroom door slammed shut and locked with me still inside. Now being only two years old, I was unable to reach the door handle to help myself. I immediately started screaming and crying. My mother rushed up he stairs to the door with my sister at her side. My mom automatically assumed that Amy had locked me in the room because of her rotten streak. My mom quickly got a screwdriver and was trying to pry open the heavy wooden door to get to me, but the lock wouldn't budge.

There was never a key to that door either. Ten minutes passed of my screaming and my mother trying to get the door free. All of a sudden, as I sat there on the floor waiting the lock just flipped open with no explanation as to why. The door swung open. My mother had a look of surprise on her face. She was still on her knees trying with the screwdriver. Till this day my mother says it was my sister who locked the door but I know better. The question is if something locked me in there why did it let me out or was it something else?

After that day I remember talking to things my mother said weren't there. One in the basement and one in my room. I can't remember exactly what I all said to these things. I just remember one sentence that scared the living day lights out of my mother. While standing close to the basement door which was in the kitchen, where my mother was with me, I said "mommy I don't wanna help with laundry because the man behind the steps will get me". Also I remember in the mornings that I was let out of my crib by someone that wasn't seen by anyone else. My mother would always wonder how I got out so she watched me one morning.

She tells me the story today of how I was sleeping soundly as the crib door gently slid down. I awoke five minutes later and climbed down the bars and was on my way to breakfast. All my life I have encountered these things and still do. For all the moms out there that believe their child has an imaginary friend think again.

Some call me tortured, some call me blessed, but to myself I'm just trying to live with the images I've seen. As I stated in the first part of this, I've seen things and remember since the age of two. This story takes place at the age of five in a place called Salt Run Road. I was living with my family in a large trailer. I say this because it was quite large and extravagant for being what most would call a trailer. It was late on a summer night and it was bath time for me. I always enjoyed bathing in my parents master bathroom due to the large tub. For most kids bath time was horrible but for me I saw it as immense fun.

I was in the tub mucking around with bubbles and bath toys. My mother was in the kitchen finishing up the dinner dishes and was in no way visible to me or vice versa. To give you an idea what the bathroom was like for later in the story, it was a large room with a spa tub and a standing shower on the other side of the room. Now when you would walk into this bathroom the shower is behind the door to come in and the tub to the far side.

In the midst of my bath I happened to look toward the shower. I was frightened out of my mind at what I seen. The shower curtain began to draw back by a set of fingers that looked as if they were burned. Almost like a hotdog that was made on the grill. Now everyone knows that a hotdog if cooked too long it has flaky burnt pieces on it. The fingers I saw had the same effect but ended with long nails. As the curtain went further to reveal the figure behind I began to scream for my mother. I could indeed see that it was a woman with a strange glow around her.

It took my mother a few minutes to hear my screaming due to the distance away. She finally heard me and came running in to the bathroom. I'm glad she did at that time because I knew the woman in the shower was going to come out. All I could reply to my mother were the words "there's a witch in the shower..." My mother exasperatedly said finish your bath and get out. I continued to beg and plead with her to look in the shower telling her that someone was there.

Now with the door to the bathroom being open, my view of the shower was completely gone. My mother finally gave in to me and checked the shower. She was oddly surprised to find traces of ashes on the shower floor. Thinking it was strange, she remained in the room until I was through with my bath. We both know it couldn't have been my sister pulling a prank because she would have been spotted exiting the room by both me and my mother.

After that night, bath time was like being sent to my room without supper. It never appeared again though I do have a fear of closed shower curtains. Whenever I enter a bathroom, if the shower curtain is closed I immediately open it just to be cautious.