It was a cold, dark rainy night, and I was working alone, writing my stories for the newspaper in which I reported for. I had been at this house all day and was wrapping up to go cover a city council meeting that night, which promised a heated debate on a controversial zoning issue. The house I worked out of belonged to an aunt.
As I was leaving, my Aunt and her live-in boyfriend came home. I waved in passing. When I returned 2 hours later, my Aunt was parked at the end of the driveway and proceeded to pull in when she saw me return. She told me something really stranged happened after her boyfriend and I both left the house.
She had been picking up on the house, had a neighbor lady come by to visit with her little boy. The phone rings. It is her boyfriend. As she is talking to him on the phone, she glances down into the family room to see this little red rocking chair (a child's chair belonging to her granddaughter) out in the middle of the floor, flush against the back door. A rush of cold fear went through her, as she didn't remember seeing it there. She tells her boyfriend, "Someone is in the house." She runs and gets in her car and awaits for her boyfriend's return.
Rick pulls up about this time, and he, myself and my aunt go into the house and check for any signs that someone may have been there. We found nothing. I proceeded home and that was that.
The next day, I did my usual routine. I went to the county courthouse, collected my news stories for the day and was sending them to the newspaper via phone at my aunt's home when she and Rick came home. They told me they were going to go to the feed store to get supplies for their horses and would return shortly. I continued to send over my stories through the phone in the back room.
When I finished, I packed up my note pads and my computer and walked down the hall to the kitchen. As I approached the family room, that little red rocking chair was out in the middle of the floor, flush against the back door. I stopped. Fear paralyzed me for about 5 minutes as I just stood there looking, thinking. The back door opened in, no way someone could have pulled it flush against the door when leaving. I looked at the other door to the house, it was chained! I grabbed a kitchen knife, threw the little red rocking chair aside and ran to my car and drove 100 mph to the feed store. I approached my Aunt and Rick, thinking it was a joke. You know, ha ha. But it wasn't. My Aunt got visibly upset.
I never went back to that house again alone. We never found out why that happened. Nothing weird ever happened again there. Well until the house mysteriously burned to the ground 2 years later. As we stood there amongst the smoldering debris. The only thing I saw sticking up from the black soot and ash, was a arm and partial back of that little red rocking chair. :S