#im so excited about the new phone though because!!!! it has four times the storage and way more ram

[comfortstars]

i got myself a new phone bc the one I currently have is pretty old and starting to malfunction. it's getting here on monday im so excited ^_^

[kingotabek]

Okay so little real time horror story for y'all

Alright kids, let's get this over with. I don't jump scare. I was desensitized at a very young age from jump scares and gore by actual real life horror and carnage and trauma blah blah blah. That's not this story. I live in this house you see, or rather my family lives in this house since I've moved away, but it's the house I was raised in and in which I still stay when I am with my family. Now this house is a normal fucking house on the outside. It's white, it's got a nice new green tin roof. All the windows are intact, and it stands an even two stories with no basement (thank god). It's even surrounded by three acres of flat farm land and 289 acres of gently wooded, rolling hills (also about seven grave yards but once again that's not this story). Paints a nice picture right? Don't most houses in horror movies sound about like this? Right? Normal? Bingo. This place is the most haunted pit of hell I think anyone could ever come across. It's stood for over 119 years, with more people than I can count on my fingers and toes, dying under it's redone roof (most of their pictures hang in the upstairs bedroom cause my grandmother is a sentimental freak. And they're the old antique photographs too which adds to the horror). Now I can say this house is haunted all I want, but I have stories to back it up. Stories of learning to tie my shoe laces because I saw the ghost of my dead grandfather and he showed me how (I was four). Stories of my friends literally running in fear onto my front lawn in the middle of the night, because they were sleeping upstairs with "the mirror" (another old antique I wish my irrational family would get rid of). Stories of voices, and floating arms in photos and things levitating and moving and even disappearing. Stories of walking through the projection of my great aunt Vivian on my way to the bathroom at four am, because it was dark and I thought she was my mom, so of course I approached her. I could tell you all these stories and have an actual book of my personal accounts as well as some eyewitness testimonies from past house guests. It'd be a lovely 600 page manual by the time I've finished recounting the tales. But the story I want to tell you happened tonight. I'm home visiting my mother and grandmother for the week. I've already been here three days, and I'm leaving tomorrow. As far as visits home go this one has been relatively uneventful. I'm with gran during the day, and then mom comes home from work, we all watch some tv then around 9 or 10 mom and gran retire to bed and leave me to read or write and do my insomnia routine. Tonight was a bit different though because around midnight I actually decided to put my ass in bed and attempt sleep. I succeeded, for a while. I woke up barely thirty minutes ago because my throat was so dry I'm surprised it wasn't hosting mirages. And like any normal person (or perhaps like any person conditioned by unfortunate events) I sit a bottle of water on my dresser before I go to bed so I don't have to walk through an unlit house. This is particularly convenient because my room is on the complete opposite side of the house from the kitchen, and as I've stated this house is Fucked™ . So I get up and get my drink, and I see something in the dark that looks like it's sitting on the top of my lidded hamper. My hamper that had NOTHING sitting on it when I went to bed. Now I'll repeat it's very dark, I don't nightlight, and this thing isn't very big. It looks to be the size of a human baby at six months. I'm very blind. I'll add that in here. I don't see well in daylight let alone in the pitch black bowels of this house past midnight. So initially (yes, even knowing my own homes backstory and penchant for the supernatural) I write it off as me just seeing stuff out of the dark. I'm very White And Rational™ (id die in a horror movie) so I keep drinking my water, and when I'm done and turning around to go back to bed, what happens? THE THING ON THE HAMPER PITCHES FORWARD AND CRIES. Okay. To my credit I don't jump (jumps scare don't do it for me even real ones). My first thought actually, is that my mother has neglected to let my black cat outside for the night (he's indoor/outdoor this is a FARM so don't come pitching at me for this) and that he's sitting on my hamper. Sometimes when he whines, it sounds like the cry of a small child. Normally, I'd go to the hamper and pick him up, but he hasn't jumped down yet on his own either, and I'm still feeling unsettled. So I do another stupid thing, and go to my bed and get my phone to turn on my flashlight. Doesn't sound stupid. It's stupid. I should have left myself unknowingly in the fucking dark okay. Cause when I shine the light on my hamper I'm not met with my cat. Im met with a baby doll I haven't seen since I was five, sitting serenely, leaned forward with its mouth open, on the top of my hamper. Now kids, I fuck with a lot of things in the land of paranormal. I get a sick thrill from visiting haunting sites that aren't my own home, and I've investigated the history of my home and the surrounding areas paranormal records extensively, because it's an exciting topic. But if there's one thing, other than clowns, that I absolutely do not fuck with. ITS FUCKING BABY DOLLS. Porcelain dolls are fine, rag dolls are fine, toss me Annabelle's haunted ass any day. But not a baby doll, and especially not a life-like one. So at this point I'm actually no longer calm or rational. I haven't seen this thing in years and it was probably buried in the bowels of this house's storage. So my flashlighted, phone-wielding ass, takes off full sprint through the house and into my mothers room. She consequently jolts awake because I scare her with my thunderous presence, and she sits up. I explain to her what happens as fast and as calmly as I can. And I don't know if her tired brain absorbed all of it, cause really she wasn't rational at all but more in a sleepy, half-cocked sense than in a hysterically frightened sense. She calmly walks through the house blinking in the dark. Leaving me standing in the door to her room, and when she reaches my room, and I guess subsequently the hamper, I hear her eloquently say, "Well, shit." Just calmly. Rather gently. "Well, shit." She then proceeds to come back to where I'm still standing with the doll in question held over one elbow. Like it's nothing. I'll give her the credit of being sixty years old, and having lived in this house for every waking minute of it, so perhaps she's even more desensitized than I am. Or she's just batshit nuts, blown over the looneys nest. Because the next thing out of her mouth is: "I found it the other day. Thought I put it in my room." And she just walks by me back into her darkened room, sets the doll down somewhere, and climbs back into her bed. Leaving me to return to my own bed, where I'm currently lying fully awake, mourning the loss of whatever sleep I COULD have gotten, because I have to worry I'm going to wake up with a doll sitting somewhere in my vicinity when in all probabilities it apparently should have been in my mother's room. So. There's that.