this post was submitted on 28 Jan 2024
34 points (100.0% liked)
askchapo
22524 readers
56 users here now
Ask Hexbear is the place to ask and answer ~~thought-provoking~~ questions.
Rules:
-
Posts must ask a question.
-
If the question asked is serious, answer seriously.
-
Questions where you want to learn more about socialism are allowed, but questions in bad faith are not.
-
Try [email protected] if you're having questions about regarding moderation, site policy, the site itself, development, volunteering or the mod team.
-
Posts about mental health should go in [email protected] you are loved here :meow-hug: but !mentalhealth is much better equipped to help you out <3.
founded 4 years ago
MODERATORS
you are viewing a single comment's thread
view the rest of the comments
view the rest of the comments
So, the one truly terrifying thing to ever happen to me happened when I was 4
I was home with my brother and I wanted to ask my dad for something, so I asked my brother where our dad was. My brother told me that he was up in our attic, so I wandered up there looking for him
Of course, this was a trap, and as soon as I got up there, my brother slammed the door shut and locked it, leaving me alone in the attic.
The attic itself wasn't creepy, it had several windows and was very well lit, plus there was a box of toys up there, which I started to play with
Everything was fine for a while, until I noticed that there was an old armoire in a back corner. It had been up there as long as I could remember, but it didn't belong to us, it came with the house. For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of it, I just had a feeling that I shouldn't stop looking at it
After a few minutes of staring at it, it started to creak. Painfully slow, and dreadfully loud it began to open. When I saw the thin gray fingers emerge from around the door, I lost it
I sprinted for the door, screaming as loud as I could, hoping that the door would have be unlocked
It wasn't
I kept screaming for someone, anyone to unlock the door, beating on it as hard as I could
I was making so much noise, I couldn't hear anything else, I couldn't think about anything else, I had to get out before whatever was in that armoire made it to the stairs and got me
After what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than maybe 30 seconds, the door swung open and my dad was there to pick me up and hold me
I was inconsolable for hours, aside from immediately telling my dad that my brother locked me in the attic, I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone what I saw up there. I had seen plenty of movies where someone wasn't taken seriously and then people got hurt trying to prove to them that there wasn't a monster.
Never went up to the attic again, nobody blamed me for it either, except for my brother, who kept making fun of me about it. Nobody else ever mentioned seeing or hearing anything weird up there.
We moved out of that house a year later. Before I left to get in the car to drive to our new house (which thankfully didn't have an attic), I made a little note for the next people to move in.
With a bright red crayon I wrote
And left it taped to the attic door
I really hope whoever moved in took it seriously
FUCK NO. Good job being a smart 4 yr old and escaping the attic grabber. Also, this is so engrossingly written, good job. ⭐ It made me mad at your brother.
You also reminded me of my attic story. My old job was at a non-profit in this century-old Victorian house.
We got bored one night, and me and 2 night crew friends got a ladder and went up there. All that was there was a single, old, wooden highchair with a porcelain doll in it. The chair faced and touched the wall, so that the doll's face lined up exactly with a small circular window, the only source of light in the attic.
Since then, I have lost all curiosity about attics.
I have a very similar story about a doll facing thr wall in a chair but it was down a dark staff corridor at a sea world. Used to love going there cos fishies but i was terrified ever since and wouldn't go again.
I was like 4 maybe 5 but there's something absurdly primal of the fear of a doll turned away from me. I wonder why that is.
Ugh, dolls
Fuck that noise
Imagine moving into a new house and finding a crayon-written note from an unknown child telling you there's a monster in the attic of the house you just moved into. Bad vibes.
Maybe it was a raccoon?
Maybe
The fingers were really long though
Though, that might just be my memory being wonky
All I know is that I don't fuck with armoires
maybe a big spider?
Didn't hear any loud NYEAH-ing though
I'm American and I know the word is a synonym for wardrobe. But I only hear rarely hear it.
For anybody reading this - if you use armoire - is it basically the same thing as a wardrobe or does the word have a feeling that the furniture is (very) old?
I don't like using wardrobe, they're always full of british kids and their lion who is also Jesus
Your brother sounds like a nob head.
He was, he mellowed out a lot as he got older