June 27, 2008
The Boy in the Mirror
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Michele, Los Angeles, California, Summer of 2002
My husband and I with our children live in the house I grew up in. This
house was built back in the 40s or 50s. I've lived in this house since I was
about 8-years-old. The house has always had an -- the only word I can think
of is -- awkward feeling to it. Some nights the house is terrifying and
others it's calm.
The first experience I had was one night my husband and I were sleeping.
Now, I'm terrified of the dark so I sleep with the TV on, but something woke
me up. I was dead asleep and for some reason I looked into the mirror that
is attached to my headboard. I saw a small boy standing at the foot of my
bed, he had a striped sweatshirt on, his hood was pulled over is head so
just his face was showing, his arms were folded, and he was just standing
there glaring at me. I couldn't make out any color, I just saw him in black
and white, with the TV illuminating him. I was so horrified. I put my head
back down again. I was too terrified to speak. My husband was right next to
me. I looked up again in the mirror and there he was, still standing there a
little closer this time just glaring at me. I sat up and turned around to
face him, but when I tried to look at him directly he wasn't there. I turned
back to the mirror and there he was again but closer. I turned once more and
he was gone! The last time I looked in the mirror he was standing right next
to me by my bed. I screamed in horror. My husband jumped up. By this time I
had the covers pulled over my head. I was screaming at my poor husband that
there was somebody standing at the side of our bed. My husband told me there
wasn't. I told him to look in the mirror on our headboard. He didn't say a
word. He immediately turned on the light to our room. He insisted that he
didn't see the boy but I know he did. One week later he bought us a new
bedroom set, one without a mirror as a headboard.
The second experience I had was my husband and I with our kids moved to a
new house a year after this experience. I instantly fell in love with this
house. We moved in and everything seemed fine. But after the first week I
started to wake up every single night exactly at 2:22 AM. After a while I
hated being in that house. You could hear someone walking up and down the
hallway always at night. Our daughter would hear knocking on her door and
scraping noises coming from the hallway. One night our neighbor came to our
door, around 2:25 AM, asking if I was okay. I said yes why, he said that he
saw me standing looking through my bathroom window. I told him that it
wasn't me, and that my window is too high for me to reach so it couldn't be
me. He was insisting that it was me. Needless to say we only stayed in that
house for a year. Oh, and right after we moved out of that house I never
woke up at that time again.
