Babydoll Head In My Closet

This frightening experience occurred when I was about eight years old. I used to sleep on the couch downstairs, next to my dad's bed, because I was afraid of the dark. My mom typically wouldn't get home until around 11pm, so I always slept near my dad for comfort.

One night, as I lay watching YouTube videos on my dad's iPad to fall asleep, an Amber Alert suddenly went off on his phone. To this day, that alarming noise triggers panic attacks and severe anxiety for me. Terrified, I turned off the iPad and hid under my blanket.

I remained that way for a good five minutes until I heard the loud, sliding door upstairs open - the signal that my mom was home. "I'm home!" she called out. Relief washed over me. I got up and raced upstairs, comforted by the lights she had turned on. Not seeing my mom, I assumed she was in the bathroom and went to my room to go to bed.

My door was open just a crack. I waited for what felt like forever for my mom to come say goodnight. Suddenly, I saw a terrifying face emerge in the crack of my bedroom door - it was a man. His leather-like, mangled face is seared into my memory. He just stared at me. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep while still peering out to see him standing there, leering into my room.

Frozen in fear, I couldn't move or scream. After what seemed like hours, he slowly disappeared from view. Shaking, I opened my eyes fully just as my mom came in to give me a big hug. In my eight-year-old mind, I thought maybe that figure had been my mother watching me.

When I asked her why she had been staring at me in my bed, her chilling response still haunts me: "What are you talking about, sweetie? I just got home." If that wasn't my mother, then who was that terrifying man?