When I inherited my grandparents’ house, it felt like a cherished dream. This was the place where I spent countless summers—playing in the garden, baking with Grandma, and listening to Grandpa’s stories by the fireplace.
The house was a sanctuary of memories, comforting even as I moved in alone. But a few weeks into my new life, that comfort turned unsettling.
One day, while unpacking, my mother asked, “What’s it like, Celia? Is it different without them?”
I replied, “It’s familiar and strange at the same time.”
She reassured me, “As long as there’s comfort, that’s all you need to get going in your new place.”
Despite the reassurance, I soon noticed odd occurrences. Every morning, the attic door was slightly ajar. Initially, I blamed it on the house settling or a draft. But the idea that someone might be sneaking into my home gnawed at me.
One evening, after a long day, I came home, eager for a relaxing bath. But something on the kitchen door frame caught my eye—a small piece of paper.
“That definitely wasn’t here before,” I murmured, feeling a chill.
The note read: *Come to the attic at midnight. Come ALONE.*
Fear washed over me. Should I call the police? But what would I say? That someone left a note in my home? Without clear signs of a break-in, it might seem far-fetched.
I considered it a prank—perhaps some kids. But my unease lingered.
I called my best friend, Laura, hoping for reassurance.
“You won’t believe what I just found,” I said, my voice trembling.
“What is it? Are you okay?” Laura asked.
“A note stuck to the attic door. It says I should go up there at midnight. Alone.”
“Celia, that’s creepy. Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should call the police,” Laura suggested, her concern palpable.
“I thought about it,” I admitted. “But it might just be a prank.”
“Prank or not, Celia, it says to come alone. How do you know you’re safe right now?”
I was silent, weighing the options. Laura’s offer to come over was comforting, but her tendency to overreact made me hesitant.
“I appreciate it, but the note says to come alone. I need to face this. I’ll keep my phone with me,” I promised.
“Okay, but be careful. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll come over.
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