The sounds wont cease. They just keep going. The door, the f*****g door… I don’t need to introduce myself, where I am, who I am… if you want to call me anything, call me Gio… not my real name, so don’t go ahead trying to track me down on the internet. Most likely when I’m done writing this, any whoever you are is reading it, there will be no trace of my existence left.
I’m 16, I’m young, I go to highschool, have a few friends, not many, and I live with my mom and dad. I love them both, and we all have a pretty good relationship with each other. But lately, they haven’t been home much. After moving to Illinois, they both got new jobs in the city, and aren’t at the house a lot.
My friends, we don’t see each other in person, we just talk on websites like discord. I’m actually pretty lonely. I’m quiet at school, barely talking, but I’m luckily not picked on by the bullies. My apologies, in getting of track, my house. It’s really big, high ceilings, large rooms, modern exterior, I love its design. My room is the farthest away from everything, being at the end of the hallway on the 2nd floor. I actually like the isolation. It gives my peace and quiet from my dad, when he blasts Latino music the few moments he is here. Though, sometimes, when I stay up until the morning, I begin to get paranoid.
I love creepypastas, jeff, slender, no-end house, I eat that stuff up. But when I begin to watch videos on my tv, it’s like a bitter-sweet feeling, the scare of the videos exciting me, but at the same time, giving me a primal instinct of fear, my head turning as I stand still, to every little creak and sound the house makes.
My house is usually quite, the only really loud sound it makes is when the air is on at its highest, or when the washer and driers are done doing their jobs, each making a loud screechy beep. But there’s always been a secret I’ve held, since I was born. I have a fear of closed doors. Ridiculous, I know. If anything, closing a door should make you feel better, making you feel safe. It never was like that for me.
I only shared it a few times when I was young, but I found it apparent that my mom and dad didn’t believe me, nightmares were always the cause. That’s what they believe. I didn’t share with anyone else in fear of getting mocked, and it’s not like I could prove it. I’ve tried recording, calling out to my parents, taking pictures, but nothing works. And now, it’s getting worse. I always seem to have a problem with doors, especially with the ones in my room.
I’ve lived in 3 different houses, each door having the same problem of closing in by themselves. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but before I got in bed, is always tried to put something in the doors way, and pillow, doorstop, even chairs, but somehow, the door would close shut, and that’s when it would happen, it wouldn’t be just one thing happening over and over for years. It would be different each time the door closed. My most memorable experience was when the door shook. like always, the door closed in by itself. I was about to open it up, when I heard something. I first heard one person yell, then another, and another.
I fell back and ran to my bed, trembling, pulling the covers over me, up to my eyes. I could hear women and men screaming outside. They were all crying, and begging. They wanted me to let them in. I was 10 at the time, and I was paralyzed. I just kept my eyes on the trembling door, the locked handle shaking violently. I could see a dark liquid ooze through the bottom of the door.
At the same time, more voices joined into the group I was listening to, and then… one began to vomit, they began to vomit loudly, the kind of sound that makes you sick to your stomach. The retching began to get louder, as others had the same happen to them. Others were still banging and screaming as more of the liquid began pouring in. I don’t know why as a kid I thought it was something else, but I’m guessing I didn’t want to except that blood was pouring on the floor. As the people outside began to throw up more violently, I could hear them gurgle, as if they were drowning in their own vomit. I wanted to throw up myself at the sounds.
I cried and cried, not noticing the liquid disappear, or the voices cease. My parents burst into the room, picking me up and asking me frantically if I was all right. I couldn’t form words and just pointed at the door as I cried. They must’ve thought it was another nightmare, until I began to throw up like the people were. I coughed up my food from dinner as the yelled, taking me to a hospital. The hospital said I was fine, simply giving me a few meds and telling my parents to return if it happens again, or if it gets worse. My health didn’t, but my fear did.
I didn’t go to school the next day, and I just had to live with experiences like this for years. That leads me to the present. My parents left today on a business trip, leaving me alone for the next week. I hated the sound of that, but they assured me that I would be fine. I’ve always acted fine, even though I only really get 6 hours of sleep. I tried to sleep early, as to feel better the next day. It kinda worked, I slept for longer, but that didn’t stop the door from playing with me. I also wanted to see what would happen if I had put an old desk I had in the way of the door.
I felt confident that this could actually work, and leave the door open. I awoke to the sound of wood creaking loudly. I looked at the door, pushing against the desk, the wood on it starting to crack and break. I began to tremble again as the door continued, pieces to wood flying off in every direction. Suddenly, the door slammed into the wall. The desk in half, meanwhile, the door didn’t have a single scratch. I moved back in horror as the light outside my window began flickering, all going off in electrical fits. They turned off one by one, until my window was pitch black.
I looked back at my door, the half desk now gone. I walked over to it, trying to open the door, it did, but on the other side was terrifying. Void. Nothing. Emptiness. There was nothing but black on the other side. I stared into the abyss for a few minutes, or at least, I think so. I closed the door, pacing my room, thinking on what to do, as I checked my watch for the time. There were no numbers, the same was said for my phone, with no access to Internet, and all my contacts having been erased. I had no signal, and just fell to the floor, not knowing what to do. Then the door opened.
I looked at it, seeing my mom and dad in the void. I screamed. Their bodies were contorted, folded in strange and terrifying ways, their heads cut off, and placed on the center of their bodies. They had rolled back eyes, with their mouths stitched up into a smile. I vomited, crying when the door closed, and opened, showing my hallway, going into a spiral. I didn’t know how to react, and didn’t have time to, since it closed and opened again. And again. And again. Each time showing a new horror, until I saw people running and crying.
They ran towards me. I recognized the yells and pleas. It was the people from when I was ten. I quickly shut the door, but they continued to cry out in agony, the pounding and vomiting returning. That’s where I am right now. I feel like its been days, maybe even a week. I’m hungry, I’ve had a water bottle and that’s it. I don’t know what to do, but they are still out there. Crying and begging. I’m so tired, hungry, and thirsty. I’m not sure what else I can do but then to share my experience. I don’t know if this is something other people have experienced as-well, or if I’m just really unlucky, but when I post this, and I’m done with this document. I’m going to open up the door, and see what happens. The voices and saying my name now, yelling it, and I don’t know what they want, why they are here, or what they even are, but hopefully, whatever they do, wont hurt too much.