I was not in my teens yet, I'm not sure how old I was, maybe 11-12 years old. My parents had split up when I was young, It was my time to stay with Dad which I had no problem with.
My Dad has his moments but we get along. I was staying with my Dad in an old farm house just outside of town, in a place, (We'll call the goon).
Dad hadn't been there long and it was the first time I'd stayed there. The farmer that owned the place had a small flat not far from the main house, he Milked the cows every morning, But never came in, He was a younger man in his late 20's or so.
He had Inherited the place after his Grandad past on. (I Didn't Know that at the time). There was a man that was renting one of the rooms there as well at the time, He was in his 50's, I guess. He was OK I suppose. He kept to himself most of the time, But he would come in and out of the main house to cook in the main kitchen.
He had a Room in the back of the house, But He and my Dad got along so He would come in and sit and watch TV and chat with my Dad sometimes. It was about 9:30pm when I went to bed, as I was getting tired.
As I do most nights tired or not, I had lain there for an hour or so if not longer, tossing and turning as I do, (Still to this day), until sleep finally comes. I woke up late in the night, The room was like ice, The hairs on my neck stood up.
I got the feeling of someone watching me. I was facing the wall away from the door, as I turned my head half asleep, I seen an old man in what looked like old work overalls standing at the head of my bed.
Thinking it was the man renting the other room, I didn't even really look at him, But noticed an odd look on his face, (like the one you get when you're not meant to be somewhere).
I just turned back over and said "GET THE F OUT OF MY ROOM NOW". I pulled the blanket up to warm my neck, Then dosed slowly back to sleep. In the morning after I got up, I told Dad about it, still thinking it was the renter and said,
"He'd better tell the renter to stay out of my Room", As I was known for Having quite A temper on me at that age, and still do. (I'm a redhead what can I say)
Dad looked at me and said "what are you talking about Son? The renter had gone camping at about 12 o'clock or so the night before, After I had gone to bed. I didn't hear him leave but Dad was still up when he left.
I later found out the old farmer that had owned the place had died there and I was in his room.
Thinking back on the way he was looking at Me, No wonder he had the look of, (What do you mean your room on his face).
Story credit: E V, Victoria.
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