My Bedroom Door

          Life is full of mysteries. Well, maybe not full of them. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that one can find mysteries throughout their life. I have a few that have taken up residence in my memories. They reside there simply because I was terrified when I experienced them, and—to this day—have no explanations for their occurrences.



          I will discuss only the first one today. I am not in a generous mood, you see. This incident happened in my bedroom during my first pregnancy. I am not certain of the time of night, but am confident it was not around three am. I mention this because three am is widely known as the witching hour. Magic is said to take place at that time.



          While my son was growing in my womb, I awoke with a start. I don’t recall having a nightmare or needing to urinate for the umpteenth time, which is common when pregnant. I simply awoke, looking around, and feeling annoyed with myself for the interruption of sleep. Glancing at my windows, I noted that it was still dark outside. Glancing at the clock, I noted the time, though, I cannot recall the exact numbers.



          Before I could attempt a return to slumberland, my bedroom door, which was left open at night, closed then reopened abruptly. It was a dark, bifold wooden door with slats across the top half of it. It was opened by grabbing the knob and pulling it inward, and had to be pushed in the middle to close it. I was still lying in my bed, my side being the side that faced the door. I hadn’t pulled it open or closed it shut.



          Sucking in a sharp breath, my heart pounding in my chest, I tasted fear in the air: my own and that of my husband. I quickly turned to my left to whisper harshly, “Did you see that?!” To my surprise, John was awake, wide-eyed and looking very uncomfortable. I’d fully expected him to be in a deep sleep. He was not a light sleeper. He whispered back, “Yes.” Wishing my heart would slow down its frantic beating, I whispered again, “You think it was the wind?” He shook his head and nodded pointedly at the only two windows in our bedroom, “No. There’s no wind tonight. Look.”



          Looking at the curtains sitting so still that they could’ve been painted on, my skin felt cold all over. Dread and fear were unwelcome visitors in the room. Seeing my husband, who is a foot taller than me and twice my size, look uncertain and afraid, was even worse. Forcing myself to turn right, I faced the direction of my bedroom door. It was still open. John nudged me on the shoulder, urging me to wait with hand motions as I looked at him. We waited.



          I hated the shared fear between John and me, that made my room feel claustrophobic. Whatever had closed and opened our door, it wasn’t the wind and it wasn’t an animal. We didn’t own any pets. We were equally certain that it wasn’t a person either. We lived alone in that apartment. My husband’s grandmother lived upstairs at the time. She never ventured downstairs. As if to confirm this fact, we heard her shuffling around upstairs, as we stared at the bedroom door. She regularly had trouble sleeping.



          So, there you have it. You wanted a mystery. I have experienced a few, but decided to share one with you. John and I never figured out what had happened that night. Neither one of us is religious in any way, and we were wary of assuming it was a ghost or spirit of some sort. But what else could it have been? As you may well know, a mystery unsolved can often lead to other mysteries.

          While I am not in a generous enough mood to share the other mysteries of my life in such detail as this one, I will say this: The baby growing inside my womb that night, eventually grew into a four year old who claimed to witness “an old man living in the clocks.” This old man often visited Aiden, causing fear and other incidents experienced by all three of us, to which I have no explanation. This is also the time that my sleep paralysis—a twice or more per month event—began to occur.



           Mysteries can be fun, but can also be terrifying, which was the case with my family’s experience. I’ve heard of unexplainable paranormal events following families to different homes. I am relieved to say no such incidents occurred since my family (now containing four members) moved out of that apartment and into a new one. And my sleep paralysis ended. Whatever had closed and opened my door that night and stuck around to do other unpleasant things to my family and me, had chosen not to follow us.  Whew.

Jessica S.

June 2020