i live in an apartment on first floor. on my third floor there use to live a mean lady named wonda. she would always give my family dirty looks. then one day she died in the hospital. we didnt find this out for a long time until wondas children told us. so the kids of wonda took a bunch of there stuff but for some reason they left alot behind. so our family went upstairs and cleaned it out a bit. i couldnt beleive my eyes when i saw a board to talk to the dead. my whole body shivered. i felt that someone was watching me. so i walked away from the board and met up with my family. my parents found a bunch of boxes with dolls that wonda made. i almost fainted there was a doll with her husband and a rope was tied around his hands. it said on the box really tiny i cant remember but i know it was a threat. my cousin nick and i decided to go to the living room and we found a little which doll and it almost seemed its eyes were following us.
after that we left right away. we both were thirsty so we went downstairs to grab a drink but as soon as we left wondas door a black shadow flunged past us. we both ran back into the apartment with our family. finally we all left and were safe and calm down on the first floor. my cousin nick slept over that night. so we went upstairs on the third floor. something was telling us to go back so we did. we went into the room we have not gone in, wondas bedroom. we opened the closet door. in neat rows there was little glass cups and pots. then all of a sudden it sounds like dozen of glasses breaks but not one glass broke. we ran downstairs and we were only 9. the day after that we went in the attic to make sure her stuff was gone all of it was but there was pictures. pictures of wonda as a little girl in the exact house. she seemed so happy. there was nothing left. so we head downstairs. i wanted to do a craft with my cousin so i went to the basement to grab siccors. as i walked down the stairs i heard a bang as if glass broke. i just thought my mom dropped glass are something so i went down the stairs and in the pile is broken glass with a lit ciggarate and hat lit on top of it. i stood there shocked then scream. my parents come down the stairs and saw the mess.they ignored it and said glass must have just fallen and a ciggarate must have been on the ground. i listened to them but till this day on when im half way up those stairs i go right back down as if someone was telling me not to go up there. i hope you like this and while i wrote this i was shaking the whole entire time just re thinking about what i experienced.
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