vampirexpsycho
04-09-2008, 11:57 AM
This is my second post today on horror forum, I can't help wanting to post as many things as I can. I'm bored and I just had a huge fight with my mom because I slapped my little sister's hand because she kicked me. A real stupid reason to fight with me but what the heck, I feel like my mom just forgot that I'm her daughter too since my sister joined our family. Like anyone would care, but anyways. What I'm about to tell you guys is something I don't know if I believe myself. It happened to me about four years ago when I was sleeping over at my best friend's Débora's grandparent's house(woah). We've known each other since we were six and we would always go to her grandparent's ranch to spend our vacations. I think it was the scariest vacation I've ever had. Everything was out of control, on our way to the ranch the car drove over a rock in the way and the rock managed somehow to get in the car's engine or something, me and Débora had to walk all the way to the ranch. It wasn't really dark outside but there were wolves there and they weren't nice doggies, so we had to stay in guard. When we were approaching the ranch house we saw a pack of wolves lying infront of the door. Me and my friend were all alone and the wolves had already seen us too and were heading our way. We ran to nearest tree and climbed on it. They stayed near us for quite a long time but when it got really dark they ran away. But the strange thing about them running away was that their tails were between their legs, so we asumed they were scared of something. We got down from the tree and ran to the doorway. We got in and started talking about what'd just happened, it wasn't the first time but it was still scary. We were pretty bored so we decided to tell each other ghost stories, something we loved to do. We were done telling scary stories around midnight and her parents and grandparents still hadn't come back. We started to get worried so we wondered if it was save to go outside to check if someone was coming. We looked through the window and saw nothing was there so we went outside to get some fresh air and wait for them to come back. Everything was pretty calm and normal so we walked down the small road just ahead the tree that we'd climbed on. At the end of the road was a house where one of our friends lived, it was a pretty old house and our friend said he had seen ghosts wandering around his house but he actually talked to one of them. He invited us in because it was pretty dangerous outside so we accepted his invitation. Me and Débora were really excited to see the those ghosts and our friend said we shouln't be because ghosts were bad. We didn't believe him of course, but we decided not to discuss about it. We had never been in his house before so he asked if we wanted a little tour, we followed him through the many halls and once we entered a certain room I saw something I never actually thought I would ever see in my entire life. The room was enormous, there was a big oval table in the center of the room, around that table were chairs covered in satin. And at the end of the table sat a man, he was very pale and he had long hair and amber colored eyes. He didn't look old but neither did he look young, I'd say he was about thirty-five. I couldn't get my eyes off of his image, Débora saw him too and asked if I was seeing what she was seeing. I nodded my head and asked our friend who that man was. He smirked and said that the man was his father. We were shocked but recovered quickly and rushed over to the man to apologize and introduce ourselves. But the man didn't even blink, I tried to tap his shoulder but my hand went through his body and I fell on the chair. Débora shrieked and ran out of the room pulling me with her. We ran like hell away from the house and when we were a few meters away from it we saw our friend running out of the house too but he stopped in his tracks and waved at us, he vanished after that. We were both in awe. We coudn't believe that the boy that was once our friend was actually a ghost. He's been our friends for two years and he never told us something. Two years later we decided to visit that house again, but there was noone to be found. We wandered around the house, passing through photographs and objects that were from the family that lived there. I remember staring at a picture of my friend and taking it with me. I think I still have it but then again, I don't know where it is. I don't know if I believe in what happened years ago, I was ten back then and kids usually have imaginary friends. Who knows, I don't. But the only thing I know is that I still dream about him. It's kind of scary because I still remember falling through his father's body. I still can't believe it, but there's a part in me saying that there is a bit of reality all that...