I was doing my homework in the kitchen early one morning when I heard a man out on the street shout. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but figured it must just be some drunk or crazy person shouting incoherently and ignored it. A while later, I started hearing a tune being whistled. I didn’t recognize the tune, but figured once again that it was coming from someone out on the street or a neighbor’s house, and I once again ignored it. Without really paying attention to it, I barely noticed that the whistling seemed to be getting closer and closer to my house. I did, however, notice when the whistling suddenly stopped and I heard the door to our front steps swing open. I heard the sound of heavy boots climbing the stairs to our building, but then there was nothing.
Everything was silent again, so I relaxed and got back to my homework. Then without warning, the tune resumed, and the whistling sounded like it was right beside my ear. I was too scared to move, and felt a heavy hand rest itself firmly on my arm as the whistling continued. When I finally snapped out of it, I yelled for my father who came running. We found the front door open, which was unusual because it was never open, and along the front stairs were animal tracks.
I’ve never heard that haunting tune again, but I can still feel that hand on my arm. Every time I turn my arm I feel like I’m going to see a hand gripping onto it, even though I know what happened to me couldn’t have been real.
Submitted by K Jacqueline Baez.