I was playing house at my parents when I was 18 when they went on a summer holiday. I lived in an outhouse, never locked my room (figured it was safe, and the main entrance was where it was risky). On day three of being home alone, I visited the local ‘haunted’ house where a gruesome family murder took place in the 80’s. My friends were having a joke about how weird it would be something happened to me that night (like most poorly written horror films). I thought nothing of it…but grabbed my little brothers baseball bat and put it beside my bed anyway. I went to bed like usual, and pulled the curtain on the window (I can see straight through it from my bed). Anyway, I was asleep, but have always been a light sleeper. At around 3 am, I just knew someone was watching me and felt it. The silence was deafening, and I was struggling with trying to emerge out of my sleep. I was drowsy, and a part of me was yelling ‘it’s just a cat or something’, but was awake the second I heard the creaky front door open. I was frozen, my eyes open, but unable to move. I was in shock, or still in sleep or something. I saw a man in my room, stare at me, take two paces towards me…breathe…and after what felt like an hour, walk out of my room. I crawled off my bed eventually, mustering up the balls to grab the baseball bat, and crawled to the door.
The door was open. And so was the main house.
Nothing was stolen, but to this day, I have no idea what happened that night or why, but it was easily the scariest shit i’ve ever experienced.