One of the most frightening and overtly physical paranormal experiences I had occured when I was about 16 years old. It was a Sunday morning and I was sitting in bed reading a fiction book. I used to read a book every Sunday morning, ah, those were the days. Our house had very creaky floorboards and my room was at the end of the hall, so whenever someone was walking down the hall I could hear them coming and know how close they were to my door.
And so it was on this particular and uneventful morning that I was sitting and reading. My mom and sister were at the grocery store, my brother was in his room (we shared a wall and I could hear him talking on his phone) and my dad was downstairs watching the basketball game. I heard footsteps in our hall. Heavy, slow, and very methodical footsteps, like someone was lumbering towards my door. Not the brisk and purposeful footsteps I usually heard. These footsteps were perfectly measured. I assumed it was my dad so I put my book down and prepared for the knock … which never came. As soon as the footsteps reached my door they continued into my room. My heart started beating wildly and I could feel the fight or flight adrenaline surge into my brain. I was scared stiff, unable to move or breathe. The footsteps continued on into my closet. I saw no one, but I did feel a presence. I heard a crackling sound like fire or like paper being crumpled, and then a small box that used to hold my phone and had been sitting peacefully on my shelf for months came flying out at me. It didn’t just drop over the ledge to the ground, it flew straight out and then dropped straight down. No arc, very unnatural.
After that it was over. No more footsteps, no crackling, no more flying boxes. I was completely unable to move, so great was my fear. I sat in bed for about 5 minutes before getting up the courage to get out of bed. I had to walk past the box to get out of my bedroom, so I quickly jumped over it. Then I ran into my brother’s room (without knocking, which is a cardinal sin when your brother is 18 and on the phone with a girl ) and I asked him if he had heard footsteps in the hall just a few minutes ago. He said no and “get out” and I left. I found my father downstairs watching the game and I asked him if he had been upstairs in the last 10 minutes and he told me that he hadn’t left the couch in half an hour.
I was really spooked over this experience because it happened while I was completely awake and it was so physical an experience. It wasn’t like I just sensed a strange presence or something; a box flew out of my closet and halfway across my room.
After I calmed myself down I began to wonder about what happened. Was it a spirit just out for a walk who decided to mess around with me a little? Was it attempting to hit me with the box? Was it trying to get my attention? Did the fact that it was a box that used to contain a phone mean anything; like perhaps it was trying to “communicate” with me? I even became a little annoyed at the seeming insignificance of what happened. I mean, something walked down my hall, into my room, and threw a box out of my closet. Big, fat, hairy deal. On the one hand I was grateful that the experience wasn’t malevolent, but on the other hand it might have been cooler if the spirit had given me a message or made everything in my room float around for a minute while I grabbed a camera.
Still, I have to say that although the experience frightened me quite a bit, I thought it was a nice change of pace from the usual nighttime activity I was used to. Nothing overt like that ever happened again, for which I was supremely grateful.