When I was a kid I broke into my room

When I was about 10, 11, I had a tradtion where before I went to sleep each night I would open my bedroom door, step behind it, and peek around the door to make sure there wasn't anyone hiding behind my door. After I had done this I was guaranteed I was safe to go to sleep. After all - who would think to look behind the door?<br><br>One night I was doing my usual routine when I noticed there was a person hiding behind my bedroom door. At first I thought it was my dad playing a prank on me but then I saw their face. It was a woman. <br><br>She was middle aged, thin, and had a very kind face. She had the same red hair as my mother but she definitely wasn't my mother. She had very green eyes and her smile seemed to show genuine warmth. <br><br>I felt a moment of confusion before my fight or flight kicked in and then my fear set in. I tried to scream but she put a finger to her lips and whispered that she wouldn't hurt me. I have no idea why but I believed her. <br><br>She stepped out from behind the door and held out her hand. She looked down at me with a very kind expression on her face. When I didn't move she cocked her head and her expression turned quizzical. She asked if I was ok. I said yes - which was a lie. I wasn't ok I just had no idea what was going on. <br><br>She then offered to prove she wouldn't hurt me by opening my window. I have no idea why I agreed but she went to the window and opened it. I heard a faint meowing sound and she waved to the window - as if she was waving to someone. She closed the window and told me that my parents were waiting for me downstairs. I went downstairs where my parents were waiting. They took me to the kitchen and fed me a meal. <br><br>When I was about 14 my mom started telling me about the house's previous occupants. One story in particular stuck with me. <br><br>A mother was cooking dinner in the kitchen one night when her daughter fell out of a second story window. She died almost instantly. The mother blamed herself for the accident and was never the same again. She became a shut in and stopped taking care of herself. She died a few years after - from malnutrition and dehydration. <br><br>In her will she left instructions for how she wanted to be buried. She wanted to be cremated and placed in a glass jar. This jar was to be buried in the back yard of the house where her daughter had died. Her ashes have long since dissipated but the jar is still there. I found it one day towards the end of the time we lived there. It was buried in the dirt with no indication of what it was for. <br><br>She died in the 1950s. I saw her in the 90s. <br><br>I've lived in that house since I was 3 - I moved out when I was 16. I never saw the woman again but I always had the feeling that the house wasn't empty - that there were people living there who I couldn't see. <br><br>I don't know if the woman I met was the mother of the girl who fell but my mom said that she was the woman who lived in the house when the accident happened. <br><br>I don't know what to make of this story. I just know that the house I lived in was not empty.