I was getting used to living alone when weird things started happening to my home. I didn’t believe in all of that, but I did wonder if it was a spirit or perhaps my late spouse playing a strange game. My brain spun so much from disbelief that it eventually stopped when I realized the reality!

I’m 62 years old and haven’t lived with my husband for 15 years. Twenty years ago, our kid departed from us and is currently residing abroad full-time. But during the past month, I’ve noticed odd occurrences occurring in my home. I dismissed it at first, supposing that I might have simply forgotten where I left them till later.

My house began to shake for weeks as my furniture, pictures, and little items like vases and picture frames began to move around on their own. I put it down to old age, but the more days went by, the harder it was to ignore.

I once discovered a dining room chair leaning against the wall of the living room! Then I saw, resting on the kitchen counter, a family portrait that I had not touched in years! I felt like I was going crazy!

A few days later, I started snapping pictures of every room before bed to make sure I wasn’t making any snap decisions and to comfort myself. I then contrasted them with the vista the next morning.

I was shocked to see that the furniture had actually moved! And often, complete goods were in separate rooms—not just by an inch or two! It wasn’t just that I was forgetful or had trouble remembering!

My paranoia kept me awake at night. I remained conscious, keeping an ear out for any noises that could indicate what was going on. However, the nights were silent.

I opted to install a security camera system throughout the house after realizing I needed reliable evidence. I put in two cameras in the living room, one in the kitchen, one in my bedroom, and one in the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

Even though these were basic tools, I was determined to solve this. That ended up being the best option, but it was also a poor one because the reality was far more sinister than anyone had anticipated.

Nothing out of the ordinary was visible in the video throughout the first several days. There was nothing but the same barren rooms with the occasional wandering cat; there was no movement and no shadow. However, on the sixth day, I discovered something unexpected.

When I watched the recording from my living room camera—a figure completely covered in black—I froze!

Whoever it was, they took care to cover up any visible body parts. Their mask covered their entire face! When I realized what was truly happening, I almost lost it!

They approached carefully, almost gingerly, as if they knew precisely where the cameras were, and I watched in terror. It chilled me to the bone!

In my home, the figure moved furniture, changed objects, and occasionally just stood motionless while surveying her surroundings. The video captured them creeping around the house at strange hours, typically in the early morning when I had just stepped outside to acquire groceries or when I was out running errands.

I couldn’t help but wonder how long this had been going on because the burglar moved so methodically and softly!

I contacted the police in panic, telling them about the intruder. When I showed the officer who had stopped by the video again, he too appeared to be shaken.

“We’ll step up patrols around here, ma’am,” he remarked, casting a wary glance at the figure’s paused image on my screen. “But you should exercise extra caution until we apprehend this individual. Make sure to lock all of your windows and doors.”

I nodded, but I still felt like there was more work to be done.

I came to the realization that I couldn’t continue to live in a state of perpetual anxiety and homelessness. I thus asked the officer to assist in organizing a plan. He advised me to view the live footage while remaining close to the residence during the day. In this manner, the police would be prepared in case the intruder returned.

The following day, I prepared a little bag and headed out of the house like I was running my regular errands. However, I went to a tiny café across the street from my residence instead of rushing to the store. From the window seat, my front door was easily visible.

I positioned my laptop in front of me and watched the live video from my cameras with trepidation. Nothing happened for hours on end. The minutes passed, and my heart raced. I pretended to read a book while sipping coffee, but all I could see on the screen was the screen!

The front door then creaked open, just as I was beginning to believe that this might be simply another false alarm.

My throat tightened around my breath!

The intruder was standing in my doorway, wearing the same clothes as before! With shaky hands, I reached for my phone and dialed the same police officer I’d spoken to the previous day.

I attempted to remain calm as I muttered, “He’s here,” as though the intruder could hear me. “He’s in my house right now.”

They were already on their way, the officer informed me. A crew of theirs was stationed a short distance away. As I watched, my gut twisted into knots, the burglar made his way back through my home. However, something wasn’t the same this time.

He was combing through my possessions, not simply moving things around. He took out old photo albums, opened drawers, and went through my private files!

I stood paralyzed as he entered my bedroom and unlocked the wardrobe. He took up an old sweatshirt belonging to my late spouse and briefly held it to his chest. Then he threw it onto the ground with abandon. It seemed as though he was making fun of me and attempting to assert his dominance over my life!

The cops had arrived, as he was ready to leave the room, when there was a huge banging sound throughout the home! The person froze for an instant and then shot toward the back door. With their weapons drawn, the officers charged in, yelling orders!

The individual attempted to get away, but to no avail. In my backyard, they tackled him to the ground!

From my laptop, I could see everything happen as if it were a movie. As they removed his mask, I felt a wave of relief that was soon followed by a dreadful sense of foreboding.

My son was there.

The same son, to whom I had not spoken or seen for twenty years! He struggled against their hold and raised his wild eyes to the cops.

He yelled, “Let me go!” “This is MY home! I’m entitled to be here.”

I rushed out of the café and staggered across the street, and the officers looked at each other, exchanging confused glances. It seemed as though I was going slowly! I was filled with surprise and despair as I peered at him in the backyard when I eventually arrived!

“Why, Trevor?” I was able to speak, little more than a whisper. “Why would you DO this?”

When he chuckled, I was shocked to hear a bitter, nearly unintelligible sound!

“What makes YOU think what you think? Years ago, you broke up with me! You abandoned me with nothing.” He fought the officers who were restraints. “I needed money, and you were just sitting on all of it, living in this big house by yourself!”

My legs started to weaken. I had to grip the patio table’s edge to prevent myself from falling!

“So, what?” Shaking my voice, I questioned. “You intended to make me go crazy? make me feel as though I was going crazy?”

“YES!” he yelled, giving me a vile expression as he glared up at me.

“I would take up the role of guardian if I could have you diagnosed as mentally ill. I might obtain access to your accounts and sell the house.”

I was no longer able to listen. With tears clouding my vision, I looked aside. After years of missing him and questioning whether I had failed as a mother, this? Had my son, the young boy I’d held in my arm, returned to haunt me in exchange for cash?

I took a seat in the living room, which used to be my haven, after the cops hauled him away. It felt like someone else’s house now. Even though everything was in its proper place, something wasn’t quite right.

I received a call from the station a few days later. On official record, my kid had admitted to everything. He was in a precarious situation due to his massive indebtedness.

Since he was still my child, I decided to settle his obligations for the sake of putting an end to this nightmare rather than for him.

Even so, I obtained a restraining order despite dropping the allegations against him.

However, I was very explicit when I said, “Trevor, I never want to see or hear from you again. And you’re going straight to jail if I do! Your father would be really unhappy with the person you’ve turned into. You are not my son anymore.”

I felt more empty than I had ever felt in my life when I hung up the phone. Even though I thought losing my husband was difficult, this grief was beyond words.