It is often said that children believe what they see with their own eyes. This can be both a blessing and a curse, as it means that they are highly susceptible to visual cues and can be easily convinced of something if it is presented to them in a compelling way. This can be particularly eerie or unsettling when children are exposed to things that are hard to believe or understand.
The stories you’re about to read are intriguing and unexpected because they feature kids talking about their make-believe friends who have supernatural powers, behave strangely or aggressively, or make ominous predictions or warnings.
Buckle up for a thrilling journey filled with chills and thrills.
My little sister was 5 when with happened. We were playing Candyland, and she was losing horribly, I got to take the rainbow bridge right off the bat.
As were playing she tries to draw two cards at once, so I corrected her saying she only gets one card per turn. She looked at me and said, “when I’m losing, Jonathan lets me take 2 cards”. Once I told her that was not allowed and it is cheating she replied, “You better be careful, Jonathan lets me do that and he’s right behind you”. Then she scoots in real close and whispers, “He looks mad”.
Probably too late to the thread, but I’ve never told anyone this story before.
My little brother was three at the time. His name is Ashton. I was 11, and I share a bathroom with him, which connects our two rooms. I woke up one night to him loudly knocking on my door and frantically crying. I brought him in, turned on the lights, and set him on my bed. I asked what was wrong, and spent probably about 10 minutes calming down his hysteria.
He said a bad red man attacked him in his dream. He said this as he pointed at a light but noticeable red scratch going from his left eye to his nose. I paused, watching him sob and hyperventilate, and concluded that he definitely wasn’t lying. I told him to tell me about the dream, and he went on to describe one of the scariest things I’ve ever heard.
I’d like to point out that my brother had never been to a church at this point in his life, but did participate in praying before meals and hearing the word ‘God.’
Ashton said he was dreaming that he was in his room and that he knew he was asleep. He looked out the window, and a light floated from the lamppost outside and into his window. It floated in front of him for a while and got very hot. It then turned into a giant red man and screamed at him. He said he was very afraid and that he tried to wake up, but that the man just kept laughing and yelling bad words at him. He said that the red man was going to hurt our whole family and that he was going to kill me first. He said that he tried to run to my room in his dream, but that the man grabbed him and scratched his face. He said he was crying and screaming my name, but that I didn’t come. Then, Ashton told me that a really bright white light burst into his window and that it turned into a strong man. He described the man as wearing a white dress, and that he had black hair and was glowing gold. He also said that he had a sword and that he yelled at the red man. Ashton said that the red man got very scared, and told him to leave. The gold man then jumped on top of the red man and started wrestling with him and yelling. My brother told me that he was still very scared because the red man was still screaming bad words at him. The gold man apparently beat up the red man and threw him into the ground and under the house. Right as the red man was thrown under the house, my brother woke up and ran to my door to find me.
I was curious because I was positive that he wasn’t lying, and did not have the mental capacity to make up something so vivid and scary. I wanted to ask him to describe the red man, but I didn’t want to freak him out. Ashton is 10 now, and I asked him last year if he remembered that night. He said he kinda remembers it, and that he’s talked to the gold man since then.
This one just happened at Thanksgiving this year. My little cousin (she’s 6) has had an imaginary friend named Demantus (not sure if that’s how she spells it, but it’s pronounced “duh-man-tis”) for about a year, maybe a little less. Everyone always kind of plays along with it when we see her since it upsets her if we don’t. I’m not really sure if that’s right or not, since I don’t really know the appropriate cut-off age for imaginary friends, but her parents haven’t said anything so I assume it’s fine.
Anyways, it’s Thanksgiving and we’re all getting our plates ready. My cousin starts talking about how she needs a plate for Demantus. I play along and am like “Oh of course!” and grab a plate and put some turkey on it. She says he doesn’t like turkey. Alright. I take the turkey off and put on some stuffing. He doesn’t like stuffing she said. Alright, I realized she doesn’t like turkey or stuffing, so she’s pretty much just getting a plate of foodstuff she likes. So I go to her favorite, mashed potatoes. Nope. Demantus doesn’t like mashed potatoes. Okay let’s try another one of her favorites, I think, so I put some ham on there. Demantus still doesn’t want it! Finally, I just gave in.
“What does Demantus want on his plate?” I ask.
She replies “He wants me to put all of your (gestures to everyone at Thanksgiving) heads on plates so he can eat your tongues and eyeballs.”
My son from the age of three always tells me about the “creeper man” who lives in my mom and dad’s bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made a mistake once in asking what he looked like. My son said, “Oh, he doesn’t have a face.”
A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.
I was always creeped out working with that student after that.
When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend sh*t. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when a dead girl goes all black-eyed. Far from being disturbed, she said “That looks like Kelly.” “Kelly who?” we say “You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.”
The little girl I used to nanny had an imaginary friend named “Baby”. Baby was big, bigger than her 6-foot father. Baby wore diapers like all babies do. He also didn’t like me (however she liked me very much). Every time she would fall down or get an ouchie or whatever she would always say “Baby bit me!”.
She usually would chatter with Baby if she was playing and he was ‘there’. One day I sat down on the chair next to her while she was colouring quietly and she said “Baby is sitting there, you have to move.” So I did and asked why she didn’t want to talk to Baby today and she said “Baby just likes to watch sometimes.”
So I just have this image of a 6-foot talk like a baby in a diaper who bites kids, doesn’t like me and “just likes to watch sometimes”. I creeped out.
I’ve posted this story somewhere before, but my cousin, when she was 5, and I was 17, had a stuffed rabbit that she talked to and carried everywhere.
One day she was asleep on the couch while I was watching her, and she woke up and started yelling at her rabbit for no reason. One minute she was knocked out, the next, she was awake, glaring at her rabbit, yelling, “No! You can’t do that! That’s bad! Don’t do it!” repeatedly. I asked her what was wrong, and tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. I finally just took the rabbit up to her room, and when I came back down she was asleep on the couch again. F*ck whatever that rabbit was planning on doing.
I babysit my 5-year-old cousin occasionally and he has an imaginary friend he likes to call “Peter”. So one day, we were playing Jenga in the living room. It was pretty windy outside and some windows were open. A huge gust of wind came into the room and knocked down some blocks. My cousin suddenly says, “Peter! Why did you knock it over?”
I played along and said something along the lines of,” Oh, you brought Peter with you?”
And my cousin says,” Yeah, he’s right next to you.”
My little brother’s imaginary friend, Roger, lived under our coffee table. Roger had a wife and 9 kids. Roger and his family lived peacefully alongside us for three years. One day, my little brother announced that Roger wouldn’t be around anymore, since he shot and killed him and his whole family. I don’t know if he remembers any of this, but his genuine lack of remorse was very disturbing.
When I was 16, I babysat twins who were in the third grade at the time. They always spoke of a man in an Easter Bunny costume, and they were terrified of him. One day I was babysitting, and one twin was in the shower. His brother and I were sitting downstairs watching television when all of the sudden, he said, “you need to go check on Matt.” Seconds later, Matt yelled, “He’s in here!!! He’s in here!!!” I ran upstairs, and I had to check every room before he would calm down. I’m not sure which part of the experience freaked me out the most.
One night when my daughter was about 2 she woke me up giggling. I looked at the video monitor and she was covering her face with her blanket playing peekaboo with something on the other side of the crib. Of course, there was nothing there. I just turned off the camera and lay in bed refusing to get up and look. If there was something else in there, she was on her own.
My brother had an invisible friend named Tony Rygel. He was 6 inches tall and was elderly. One day we found my brother crying in his room. Apparently, Tony Rygel had passed away in his sleep. We buried him in a shoe box in the backyard. So basically we had a funeral, complete with a moment of silence, for an empty shoebox.
My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.
In high school, one of my best friends had a little sister who was five or six years old. One day we stopped by his place, completely high because he needed to get his Magic cards. While waiting for him to come downstairs his sister came up to me and said, “Icy told me to ask you if you know when you’re going to die.”
I laughed nervously: morbid question, right? But I knew all about Icy, her imaginary friend. I even helped her draw a picture of him once. So I played along and said, “No, of course not! No one knows that. Hopefully when I’m very old.”
The girl shook her head sadly and said, “No, Icy wants me to tell you it’ll be tonight.” And with that, she just walked away.
If I hadn’t been stoned I probably would have laughed. Instead, I spent the rest of the evening paranoid that something bad was going to happen.
When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch scooby doo with her. One day I thought, why don’t I find out more about this friend? So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, “she’s a she and she’s dead.” And I said okay, “does she have a job?” And she said, “she does what my daddy does!” Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. Okay. So then I said, “where is your imaginary friend a policewoman?” And she said, “right next to where my daddy is a policeman.” And I said okay. But then she said, “I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched it when I was inside.”
A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching scooby doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my niece’s “daddy.” My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.
My wife and I overheard my 2year daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say “what? OK I’ll tell her” then get up and come into our bedroom and tell my wife “Mary says you’re doing a good job.” Mary was her grandmother whom she was extremely close to that passed away.
When I was about 4, I had an imaginary friend named Bomba. I remember pretty well that he wore a purple turban and had darker skin. I made my mom set a place for him at the dinner table and scootched to the edge of my bed every night to make room for him for months.
For my dad’s birthday that summer, my parents had a party. We had a small pool, and by this point, I was allowed to be in the shallow end with my water wings if an adult was watching me. With the adults all distracted, though, I decided to break the rules and go in without my wings or supervision.
Someone noticed me underwater pretty soon after, head under but my legs kicked toward the edge. My dad jumped in, fully clothed, and pulled me out. Fuss ensued. When it was clear I was alright, the first thing I said to my mom was “Bomba told me to just keep kicking. That I’d make it to the edge if I just kept kicking.”
The next day, when my mom was setting the table, I stopped her when I saw her set Bomba’s place. He was gone and I guess I stopped speaking of him after that.
So, when my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sat in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and I could hear my sister just screaming and screaming as loud as she “get out”. I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently, Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.
When my niece was 2, her grandfather (my father) died. A few months later, she started the phase of talking to herself, imaginary friends and such. One day, I asked her who she was talking to. She replied, “I’m talking to The Man.” I asked what The Man looked like, and she described my Dad perfectly. I asked if he had a name, and she gave my father’s name, even though she only knew him as ‘Grandpa.’
The creepiest part was when she told my mother that The Man told her where his lost wedding ring, which she had been looking for since he passed. It was right where she said.
I’m a geriatric nurse and when I was pregnant with my twins, one of my favorite patients, Josie, was thrilled I was having babies soon. She was a colorful woman, to say the least, but loved me because if she did what I asked, I’d sneak her a cigarette now and then. She wore wide-brimmed hats and bright red lipstick. Every morning she’d come to my desk and say”how ya doing, honey?” Josie died shortly after my girls were born. one day. one of my twins put on a big hat and was walking around the house saying “how ya doing, honey?”….. I just thanked Josie for coming to see me one last time and went about my day.
My parents told me this story but now I am gonna tell to you.
A little after I was born, my sister Julia had an imaginary friend named Jessica. She was Julia’s friend for a long time when things started to get a little weird. At first, my parents shrugged it off as a normal occurrence, but after a while, they began to believe that our house was haunted.
One night as my parents put me (about one year old) to sleep, I begin to cry and point at the corner, my mom was still in there and began to try to comfort me, but I continued to cry and point at the same corner. All of the sudden, my sister walks into my room and pointed at the corner and yells “Jessica stop it”!
Immediately I stop crying and Julia says like it is completely normal that “Sometimes Jessica likes to put on scary masks and scare people”. My mom who has understandably freaked out stammers to my sister “Tell Jessica that if she can’t play nice, she can’t play here at all”.
A couple of weeks go by and Julia tells my Mom that “Her eyes turn green when she is mad and her voice gets deeper”. My Mom didn’t know how to respond to this and just said “ok….”
Eventually, Julia outgrows her “imaginary” friend and stops playing with her.
A year and a half later my little sister Abbey begins to talk, she then goes on to tell us about her friend that no one else can see. She then tells my mom about how her eyes turn green when she is upset. I remember this distinctly because she dropped a pan and it scared me. She asked Abbey what her name was and she said
When my older daughter was two or three, she used to have a couple of imaginary friends, Dodo and DeeDee. They were typical imaginary friends. She would talk to them and play with them, and tell me about their lives.
Then one day, when she was about three, she was talking on her play phone when I walked into the room. She “hung up” her phone and said to me (with a completely flat voice and deadpan expression): “The Evil is coming.”
It scared the sh*t out of me. She seriously had an imaginary friend named “The Evil”.
Turns out The Evil was actually a pretty nice friend, she just had an unfortunate name.
Back in elementary school, had to be about age 6 or 7, I was close friends with this really socially awkward kid named Andrew who had just moved in from out of state. He used to sit alone (before My friend and I introduced ourselves) and just talk ever so quietly to himself but he always appeared to be enraged during the “conversations” if you will. The first (and only) time that I actually went over to his house, I had my friend tag along and we were both going to be spending the night there. Well, the whole day went by and it was all good, it was pretty fun, and Andrew seemed different at home (a bit more normal, and comfortable). Well when we were going to sleep, I remember lying there in their basement/bedroom, Andrew was across the room on a couch, and my other buddy Ryan was asleep a few feet away from me on the floor. Andrew started making these eerie noises, like a high-pitched but mellow scream, almost like a steaming tea kettle, but then he sits up, and I can only see his outline with how dark it was, but he stands up, still letting this up screeching noise out, and I just see his outline walking toward me, so I kick Ryan awake and he sits up, both of us just freaked out at this point. Andrew walks until he’s nearly stepping on us, and just sits down and slowly lets the screech die out. Ryan and I look at each other, not sure what to do, and Andrew just grabbed Ryan’s arm, and then mine, and he was squeezing like he was trying to crush it, and in a disturbing low voice, he says, “Scotty wants you both to leave”. I rip my arm away and so does Ryan’ and Andrew stands up again and just stood there laughing, super high-pitched, staring at us. We both got up and I suggested going to Andrew’s mom’s room to wake her up. Before we even took a step Andrew just SCREAMS at the top of his lungs, literally a horror movie. And his mom comes sprinting through the house and down the stairs and turns all of the lights on. We couldn’t tell in the dark, but Andrew like ripped his arms up with scratches’ and he looked all around pale and just not right. His mom laid him on the ground and held him down and was trying to speak over his screams and she was saying things like, “Scotty isn’t real andy, you’re okay” and she turns to us and tells us to head upstairs and put our coats on so she could take us home. We didn’t talk to Andrew at school for the next couple of weeks, but when we asked him about it he said “it’s okay now you won’t see Scotty anymore, no one will.” needless to say that was the end of that, and we never talked to him. Eventually, he ended up getting removed from my school because he attacked a kid with a small tree branch at recess.
My 6-year-old niece was playing a game with my brother where he would flip the coin and she would guess the outcome. She correctly guessed flip after flip without missing a beat. My brother started to get a little freaked out once she passed 20 correct guesses and he asked her how she was doing it. She told him “the voices tell me what it is”.
A buddy of mine was having dinner with his college professor, his professor’s wife and his professor’s 4-year-old son. The four-year-old son kept looking towards the hallway behind my friend nervously. Finally, the professor asked his son if he was seeing one of his friends. The son said yes. “Good friend or bad friend?” asked the professor.
“Bad friend,” said the son.
“…Why is he bad?” my friend asked.
The son looked at my friend and whispered, “Sharp hands.”
My little brother used to talk about a woman who would visit his room at night.
He said she wore a red dress, that her name was Frannie and that she would sing to him….and that she floats.
Well I actually had a relative who died years before he was born named Fannie and her favorite color was red and I think she was buried in a red dress. When we showed him a picture of her he said that was who was visiting him.
He also said a man named Jacob who dressed like a lumberjack slept in my bed.
My daughter isn’t quite old enough for imaginary friends yet, so I have to tell the story my mom told me. I don’t really remember any of it.
Just after my younger brother was born– as far as anyone knows anyway, I played by myself a lot as a kid– my imaginary friend showed up. I would strike up conversations/play trucks with/argue with him, you know, the kind of stuff kids do. One morning while I’m jabbering away on the kitchen floor, my mom asked who I was talking to. According to her, I was having a great time, talking and laughing up a storm.
I told her I was playing with David. Told her he looked just like me but wasn’t me, and loved to cuddle me in bed at night. When mom asked where he was from, I told her he was from her belly too. That we used to play there together, but he’d gone away for a while after I was born, but he came back and it was great. You know, imaginary friend stuff. Nothing spectacular.
It wasn’t until my sophomore year of high school that I heard this story from my mom. My school gave us these things called progress reports, which showed our grades at the halfway point of the six weeks. They were mostly for our own knowledge, but my French teacher required us to take them home and get them signed by a parent. In foreign language classes, you chose a different name to use in class. Mine was David. I was in the grade book as David Baseproduct. And when I brought home that first progress report, my mom started to cry.
David was my stillborn twin brother, you see. Even after all those years she still hurt from his loss, and seeing his name so unexpectedly brought it all back.
When my son was 4 years old, he would always ask “who is that girl down the hall?”. This creeped my wife and me out because there was never anyone down the hall. One day after he asked this, I asked him what the “girl” looked like. My son answered, “she looks flat”. A few months go by and only a couple of times does my son ask me about the girl. My wife and I blew it off until one day, curious about the girl, I asked him whatever happened to the “girl”. He said “She’s Tony’s sister. He says hi.” Holy f*ck! My best friend when I was a kid was named Tony. I saw his little sister get run over by a car when I was about 6. Tony killed himself when he was 16.
Little cousin Samantha had an imaginary friend named Charlotte who wouldn’t come out of Samantha’s room. When we asked Sam why she wouldn’t come out she would only say that she couldn’t, she was stuck, but would never say exactly why.
We asked Sam what Charlotte looked like, and she said she didn’t have any skin.
Later, we were all discussing Charlotte in front of Grandma, who gets serious and says, “you know that house burnt down a long time ago, and their youngest daughter Charlotte was trapped inside and died.”
Everyone just looked at each other. I was so creeped out I wouldn’t go back to the house.
When my brother was younger he had this imaginary friend who he claimed came from another planet. Actually, I guess I wouldn’t call him an imaginary friend, he was more like my brother’s alter-ego.
My brother would go into his room for a little while and reappear wearing underwear on his head and a blanket wrapped around his body, and start speaking in an accent. It was crazy, he had this whole story built around this dude. His home planet had a name, its own language, and its own customs. Anyway, part of the alter-ego’s story was that his whole family died in a fire back on his home planet. He didn’t have a house or parents anymore, so he had to come to Earth.
My brother was a strange little dude, still sorta is
When my son was about four, he had an imaginary friend named Jerry, who had a wife named Merry. He would talk about Jerry and Merry all the time until suddenly I’d stopped hearing about them. He became really upset, and he told me that Jerry had murdered Merry and then himself after feeling really bad about it. I don’t really talk to my son about these kinds of things anymore.
One morning our 2yr old woke up and rather than climbing out of bed, she sat in her room talking. We could hear her, it was cute. When we went into her room we asked her who she was talking to.
“The Man”
Um, what, which man chicken?
“The Man in my room”
Oooookay then. We’d recently moved countries for my work and had only been in our new apartment for about a week at this point. I dismissed it as some sort of coping mechanism to deal with the stress of moving, coupled with the building having a doorman whom my daughter was not familiar with but saw frequently. A day or two later;
“The Man is not here, he went to work”
Where was he?
“In my room today”
What the f*ck kid.
This became an ongoing thing, our daughter would keep us up to date with The Man’s movements and she would talk to him. I’m starting to think we need to read up about imaginary friends, the wife is getting a little skittish about the paranormal. I’m a cold hard logical man, I think my wife is a little loose with this stuff, but no matter how steel-faced you are, listening to your kid talk to an invisible man in her room makes your hair stand on end.
After a while, it became less and less a topic of conversation and I assumed my daughter had begun to cope with her new home environment until we were playing in her room and she looked up and said;
“Hello Man. Daddy The Man is ironing”
I looked up and outside her window, in the apartment immediately across the street at our level, is a 40-year-old man in his underwear ironing his pants in his kitchen.
Around 18 months I noticed my son Arden would walk around with someone or something in my apartment talking gibberish to him pointing at toys and looking up to talk. I shrugged it off as nothing more than imagination at a young age. His mother and I are not together and around 2 years old when he was talking more she asked me if he ever talked about his friend he named PaPa because when she asked which papa he wouldn’t say. He didn’t but I knew what she was talking about. That night when I was tucking him into bed I asked him if he had a friend over staying the night with us. He smiled and said yes. I asked him who and he said, PaPa. To which I asked him which PaPa? He turned his head like he was looking at somebody turned back to me with a confused face and said um PaPa Arden. I froze because I named my son after my Great Grandfather. Eerie feeling but somehow comforting at the same time.
When my cousin was 5 she had an imaginary friend named Melissa, the disturbing part wasn’t just what my cousin said but the events that went along with it. I’ll try to keep it brief because it’s a long story. Excuse my grammar in advance, I really don’t feel like proofreading at the moment.
Melissa would make comments on family members, and events and talk about the world she lived in, nothing too crazy but it was so much dialogue that she become real to us because she had her own personality. At one point I started to imagine her in my head out of curiosity. We were at my grandmother’s house where we often were, this was when blockbuster was big and renting new games was cheaper than buying them. I asked my mother to rent me resident evil and told her if they don’t have it bring me anything. As I was playing PlayStation my cousin came up to me and said Melissa says they didn’t have resident evil so your mom got you a basketball game. I kinda laughed it off like whatever cause I was too focused on my game, an hour later my mother comes back with NBA live, no way she could have heard that from anyone, I played games in the same room she played in, and I shrugged that one off. My cousin would constantly tell me that, Melissa wants you to play with us or she wants to play video games with you. After a while, I got annoyed so I would just plug my second controller into my PlayStation for Melissa and continue my game to “trick” my cousin into thinking she was playing. My cousin then told me “Melissa says she wants to play for real”
The details that Melissa told her about the world she was from were very surreal. It gave you a clear scenery of a future world filled with gadgets and new technology. The details just seemed too much for a 5-year-old to know about at the time. Later on, she revealed Melissa to be an older woman, my cousin would carry around this doll I forgot the brand but it was one of those expensive build-it-yourself life-sized dolls that looked very life-like. You would pick the clothes eye color, hair, features etc it was popular in the late 90s, and she claimed that Melissa would go in the doll to fully experience our world. One summer my family was in the backyard having a BBQ/swimming in the pool and she left the doll inside the room we shared. I was the only one in the house being anti-social, playing games alone was nothing out of the ordinary for me, I decided to go outside and get some food when I came back my PlayStation bag was opened with stuff out of it and my second controller was plugged. I rarely use my second controller most of the games I played were 1 player anyway. I looked around and saw the doll facing towards me and suddenly got a weird feeling, not sure how to explain it. My family experienced a few weird events as well, My grandmother once heard someone running around the living room and thought it was my cousin playing but there was nobody there just the doll on the sofa.
My grandma made my aunt pack the doll up after a while and put it in the attic, at night we would hear noises from up there…but it could have just been the house. When my cousin got a lil older she said Melissa had to leave cause her “job” was done, she was finished observing this world and never heard anything from her again.
My family has a long history of “weird” stuff happening.
Actually not an imaginary friend. One time I was babysitting my nephew at my sister’s place he was 4 at the time, and I heard him talking by himself in his room but didn’t pay too much attention at the time later that day I asked him who he was talking with and he answered: “Gabriel, he came to visit he said that he missed playing with me”.
It scared the shi* out of me I’ll never forget that day, Gabriel was a kid from the subdivision that died 6 or 7 months before that happened.
We live in a rented apartment in a thirty-year-old building.
When our daughter was very young she commented once that she had a hard time sleeping in her room at night because there was an old lady that would stand just inside her door staring at her in the dark.
She also had a friend that would stay over sometimes and one morning I overheard them talking about the same old lady and how they’d both seen her and had spent the night hiding under blankets until the sun came up.
She (the old lady) never spoke, or made any aggressive moves, but there was a sense of anger like our family was trespassing in her place. Maybe a previous tenant had died there?
I asked her once what she looked like and got a pretty detailed description. My blood ran a little cold as it was the same figure I was pretty sure I’d seen myself at the end of the hall where my own bedroom is a few weeks earlier.
It was all over after about a month or so. We still live here and haven’t seen anything since, though everyone does get a feeling of ‘creepiness’ once in a while like someone’s watching.
