I Found a Hidden Room in My House

I was three years old when my family moved into our dream home; a huge two story house that was perfect in every way. I have a few memories from that time; when I fell down the stairs and broke my front tooth, when I woke up one night and wandered into the backyard, and when I found the room.<br><br>Sometimes it feels like that last memory happened yesterday. I remember it so clearly.<br><br>I remember I was playing with my toy cars on the stairs, and I was sitting on the landing. From where I sat, I had a clear view of the entire second floor of the house. I was also close enough to the stairs going down to the first floor that I could be sure that no one was coming.<br><br>The memory is so vivid because I’ve replayed it so many times over the years in my head, trying to understand what I saw, but it’s never become any clearer. It always remains the same.<br><br>I was fiddling with my toy cars, watching the second floor, when the door at the end of the hall opened. I remember it distinctly, because it was the only door that we never entered. We had moved in just a few weeks ago, and I had already learned that it was not okay to go into that room. I’d gotten in trouble by it twice already.<br><br>My mom had told me, repeatedly, that it wasn’t safe for me. She said I was too little to understand, and it was locked for my own protection. My dad had given me a stern talking to the second time I’d gotten in trouble. I’d been doing my best to behave, but I was still curious about the room.<br><br>I remember I even giggled to myself as I watched a man step out of the room. I hadn’t seen him before, and I was already starting to get a little scared before he saw me.<br><br>I still picture him in my dreams. He was tall and skinny, with long black hair that cascaded down his back. He had all black clothes on, and it almost looked like he was wearing a mask. When he saw me, he waved. I waved back, not quite sure what to do. He started walking towards me, but then he stopped.<br><br>I remember feeling a little hurt that he wasn’t coming to talk to me. But then he turned and went back into the room, closing the door behind him. I watched, a little startled, as the door disappeared.<br><br>Over the years, I have convinced myself that I must have been dreaming. It makes sense. I was three years old, and I didn’t know the difference between fantasy and reality yet. But in my heart, I know I wasn’t dreaming.<br><br>Sometimes, when my parents were distracted and I could get away with it, I would leave my toys and go look for the door. I would search every inch of my house; pull on the walls, push on the panels, check every possible place I could think of, but I never found the room.<br><br>I didn’t mention it to my parents, because I was afraid they would think I was lying. After all, I was VERY afraid of getting in trouble. I did have one little brother at the time, and I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t understand or remember the man or the room if I told him, so I kept my searches private.<br><br>As I got older, my memories became fuzzy. I was never really sure if it had actually happened. I would search for the room as a game, just in case it happened to be real. It wasn’t until I was thirteen, and my family moved out of the house, that I ever mentioned my searches to anyone.<br><br>My mom was packing my stuff, and she went through my room to make sure I hadn’t left anything. She picked up an old piece of paper from under my bed. I didn’t know it was there, and she handed it to me with a confused expression.<br><br>“I know you drew this when you were little, but why did you save it?”<br><br>I looked at the paper, and a chill ran down my spine as I recognized my childish drawing of the house I had lived in my whole life, with a large X marked at the end of the hall.<br><br>“Why did I draw this?” I was trying to sound calm.<br><br>“I think you were trying to map the house. But what’s this for?” She pointed to the X.<br><br>I thought about lying to her, but something in my heart told me that I needed to ask her about it.<br><br>“I used to think there was a room there, when I was little. Do you think there could be?”<br><br>She looked at me for a long time. I thought she was going to punish me, but instead she set the paper down and sat next to me.<br><br>“Where did you get that idea, Jeri?”<br><br>I shrugged. “I just thought there was a room there, I don’t know.”<br><br>She nodded at me. “There is a room there.”<br><br>I sat upright. “Really?”<br><br>She nodded again. “Yes, there is a room.”<br><br>“Can I see it?”<br><br>She shook her head, smiling wistfully. “Sorry, sweetie. You can’t go in there. It’s not safe for you.”<br><br>I frowned, remembering how angry she had been when I was little. “But why not? Is it locked for my own protection?”<br><br>She stared at me and I realized that I had said something I shouldn’t have. I was too old to not know better, I shouldn’t have said something that I hadn’t understood for years.<br><br>I thought about asking her more questions, but something in my heart told me not to. Instead, I thanked her and went back to packing.<br><br>I never saw that house again, but I never forgot the room either. I only saw my parents once more, when I turned eighteen and they came to see me. They gave me a small box of things they had saved for me from when I was a kid, and I recognized the drawing of the house with the room immediately.<br><br>I didn’t ask them about it then. They were ready to cut ties with me, and I didn’t want to upset them more than they already were. I thanked them, took the box, and never saw them again.<br><br>Some nights, I wake up and I can almost smell the house I grew up in. I know it’s not real, my brain playing tricks on me. But sometimes, when I’m sitting in the dark, I could swear that I see a man with long black hair and a mask waving at me.<br><br>As we moved on the last day, I caught a glimpse of myself in the windowpane. My hair was as black as coal, and with the sun behind me, my whole face was in shadow. I couldn’t see my features at all. It almost looked like I was wearing a mask.<br><br>I never did find the room, but I know that it’s out there, and someday I’ll find it.