{"id":15239,"date":"2024-08-17T06:59:48","date_gmt":"2024-08-17T04:59:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/?p=15239"},"modified":"2024-08-17T06:59:48","modified_gmt":"2024-08-17T04:59:48","slug":"someone-opened-my-attic-door-every-day-i-found-a-note-come-to-the-attic-at-midnight-alone-my-heart-sank","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/?p=15239","title":{"rendered":"Someone Opened My Attic Door Every Day \u2013 I Found a Note: \u2018Come to the Attic at Midnight. ALONE,\u2019 My Heart Sank"},"content":{"rendered":"

When Celia inherited her grandparents\u2019 house, she did everything she could to preserve their memory while still making it her own. But a few weeks into her big move, strange things start happening, including a random note to meet a stranger in her own attic at midnight. Will Celia go?<\/p>\n

When I inherited my grandparents\u2019 house, it felt like a dream come true. This was the place where I\u2019d spent countless summers as a child, playing in the garden, helping Grandma bake in the kitchen, and listening to Grandpa\u2019s stories by the fireplace.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nA little girl with her grandparents | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

The house was filled with memories, and there was a deep sense of comfort that made me feel safe, even when I moved in by myself.<\/p>\n

But lately, that comfort had turned into something else\u2014something unsettling.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s it like, Celia?\u201d my mother asked me as we unpacked all my belongings. \u201cIs it different without them?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nTwo women unpacking boxes | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, Mom,\u201d I said, putting the pots and pans in their cupboards. \u201cIt feels familiar and strange at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs long as there\u2019s a sense of comfort, that\u2019s all you need to get going in your new place,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

And it was fine. I eased into my new house, slowly making it my own with yellow accent pieces all over.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nA bright living room | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

It was only a few weeks ago that things started to feel very strange. For weeks, I\u2019d wake up every morning to find the attic door slightly ajar. At first, I tried to brush it off as the house settling into itself or a draft, but the idea that someone was sneaking into the house I slept in gnawed at me.<\/p>\n

I mean, I lived alone, and the thought of an intruder was terrifying.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop, Celia,\u201d I told myself one day as I made a salad and grilled some chicken for dinner. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing scary happening here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nA salad with grilled chicken | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

One evening, after a long day at work, I came home and poured myself a glass of wine, ready to unwind with a hot bubble bath. But something caught my attention.<\/p>\n

There, stuck to the kitchen door frame, was a small piece of paper.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat definitely wasn\u2019t here before,\u201d I said, a cold shiver running down my spine.<\/p>\n

The note was short but enough to shake my core:<\/p>\n

Come to the attic at midnight. Come ALONE.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nA note stuck onto a door | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

A wave of fear washed over me. I didn\u2019t know what to do. Was it worth calling the police? And what would I say? That someone had broken into my home and left a note? There was no sign of a break-in, so it would be difficult to believe.<\/p>\n

My mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. I told myself it had to be a prank, maybe some kids messing around, but the dread in my gut wouldn\u2019t let me relax.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou just need to talk to someone about it, Celia,\u201d I told myself as I pulled my phone out.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nA close up of a paranoid woman | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

I called my best friend, Laura, hoping for some reassurance.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t believe what I just found,\u201d I said, trying to keep my voice steady.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it? Are you okay?\u201d Laura asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cA note. Like, it was stuck to the attic door, Laura. It says that I should go up there at midnight. Alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCelia, that\u2019s just creepy as hell! Are you sure you\u2019re okay? Maybe you should call the police and get to the bottom of this,\u201d Laura said.<\/p>\n

I could hear the nerves in her voice. She was stressing and would probably be pacing and biting her nails.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought about that,\u201d I admitted. \u201cBut what if it\u2019s just some stupid prank?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPrank or not, Celia, the note says to come alone. To a room in your own house. I mean, what is that? How do you know if you\u2019re safe right now?\u201d<\/p>\n

I was silent for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis doesn\u2019t feel right, Celia,\u201d she continued. \u201cDo you want me to come over?\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about it, and I\u2019ll admit, the idea of having her over was comforting. But I also knew that my best friend was a drama queen, and she was highly paranoid. If she did come over, every sound would send her into a frenzy.<\/p>\n

\u201cI appreciate it,\u201d I said. \u201cBut the note says to come alone. Besides, I need to face whatever this is. But I\u2019ll keep my phone with me at all times.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, but promise me that you\u2019ll be careful. And call me as soon as it\u2019s over. If I don\u2019t hear from you, I\u2019ll come right over.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will,\u201d I reassured her, smiling at her affection. \u201cThanks, Laura.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hours crawled by, each tick of the clock amplifying my anxiety. I couldn\u2019t eat or sit still. I couldn\u2019t focus on anything.<\/p>\n

What was waiting for me in the attic? I debated calling my mother, but the note\u2019s demand for solitude held me back. What if that was the reason that nobody showed up?<\/p>\n

Or what if that angered them?<\/p>\n

Finally, midnight arrived.<\/p>\n

I grabbed a flashlight, my hands trembling as I made my way up the creaky stairs. The attic door was slightly ajar, just like every other night. I hesitated, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.<\/p>\n

The attic was just as I remembered it. It was dusty and cluttered with old furniture and forgotten boxes. But tonight, something was different.<\/p>\n

In the far corner, illuminated by the weak beam of my flashlight, was the shadowy outline of a person sitting on an old wooden chair. My heart raced as I froze, fear rooting me in my spot.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d I called out, my voice trembling.<\/p>\n

But there was no response. The figure remained eerily still. Summoning every ounce of courage, I stepped closer. With each step, my eyes adjusted to the dark a little more until the truth was revealed. It wasn\u2019t a person; it was a dummy, dressed in old clothes, with a wig on its head. Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived.<\/p>\n

A sudden noise behind me made me jump.<\/p>\n

I spun around, my flashlight flickering in the darkness, and there stood my neighbor, Mr. Evans. His face was twisted in an expression of surprise and anger.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d he asked, his voice sharp.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat am I doing here?\u201d I shot back, my fear quickly turning to anger. \u201cWhat are you doing in my house?\u201d<\/p>\n

He hesitated, eyes darting around as if searching for an excuse.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought I heard a noise and came to check on you,\u201d he finally said, but the lie was clear in his tone.<\/p>\n

\u201cLiar,\u201d I said, my voice shaking with fury. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sneaking into my house, haven\u2019t you? Leaving these notes, trying to scare me?\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he admitted it.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine, yes, Celia. I\u2019ve been trying to scare you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? What\u2019s wrong with you? I\u2019ve done nothing to you!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Evans\u2019 eyes darkened as he replied.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis house has been empty for years. I knew you were new to the area and thought you\u2019d scare easily, that you\u2019d move out. I wanted to buy the place at a low price and expand my garden. And maybe rent out the house.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou thought you could scare me out of my home?\u201d I couldn\u2019t believe what I was hearing. \u201cYou thought that by sneaking in and leaving creepy notes, I\u2019d just pack up and leave? This is my grandparents\u2019 house for goodness sake. You\u2019ve known me for my entire life!\u201d<\/p>\n

He smirked, a twisted satisfaction in his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wouldn\u2019t take much to convince you the place was haunted or unsafe. I heard your conversation on the phone\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Fury bubbled inside me.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet out. Now. And if you ever set foot on my property again, I\u2019ll call the police!\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man glared at me, but he knew he was caught. He turned and stomped down the stairs, muttering under his breath.<\/p>\n

As soon as he was gone, I sat down on an old trunk, trying to calm myself.<\/p>\n

The next morning, I called the police. They were understanding, taking my statement and assuring me they\u2019d talk to Mr. Evans. But I wasn\u2019t taking any chances.<\/p>\n

I called a locksmith to come over and change all the locks. I installed a security system and set up cameras all around the property.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to see you try now,\u201d I said to myself.<\/p>\n

A few days later, I sat on the porch, sipping my morning coffee. I saw Mr. Evans tending to his garden, and when he glanced over, I met his gaze without flinching. I wasn\u2019t afraid anymore.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When Celia inherited her grandparents\u2019 house, she did everything she could to preserve their memory while still making it her own. But a few weeks into her big move, strange things start happening, including a random note to meet a stranger in her own attic at midnight. Will Celia go? When I inherited my grandparents\u2019 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15239","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15239","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15239"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15239\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15246,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15239\/revisions\/15246"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15239"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15239"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15239"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}