Six years ago my ex and I moved into our first apartment together. At first, I felt so excited. It was the beginning of something I thought would be great, but I was wrong.

At first, everything seemed normal. I was finally getting our stuff settled in, it was starting to look like a home. My parents lived close by, so they came to check out the place. My mom is very intune, so her input is incredibly important to me. She seemed okay with the place, but something on her face made me feel a bit off.

The apartment consisted of a small kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and a big bedroom with a small bonus room within it. When my ex started working night shifts, things started to change. Once they started, I dreaded the bedroom. I didn't know why, but just looking at it would make me panic. I couldn't stand to be in it for more than five minutes. All I kept thinking was "getoutgetoutgetoutgetout"- I didn't know what triggered the thoughts, I figured it was just me being paranoid. So I started sleeping on the couch, waiting for my ex to get home each morning. But even then, I was never able to sleep long. I was always waking up, like I was on guard. Just staring at the bedroom door.

After a month of this, I spoke to my ex about it. He tried to sooth me, tried taking different shifts. But things were still happening.

A few more weeks pass by and his normal shifts finally kick in. We started sleeping in the bedroom. This was the first time since moving in and I was internally screaming. He was always able to fall asleep quickly, but I couldnt. For some reason, that small bonus room that was within our bedroom, made me feel doomed. For a week I couldn't sleep. And then one night I couldn't take it anymore and gave in, it didn't last long. I woke up and quickly noticed the door to the extra room was open. I made it a habit of closing it every night. I tried to wake my ex, when I felt like I was being watched. I started shaking my ex harder, when he finally woke up- the feeling was gone.

I was exhausted. I didnt know what to do, I didn't realize at the time what was going on. I just knew something wasn't right. My ex ididn't know what to do either. He didn't experience it, until one night.

One night I was sitting on the floor. He was laying on the couch sleeping, while I was watching a movie. He woke up suddenly and stared at me, studying me. I was puzzled and asked him if he was okay- when he said "who is that?" my heart stopped. "who are you talking about?.." he replied "the old lady.. sitting next to you" he went back to sleep, leaving me sitting there. I didn't know if he was just messing with me or what. I shook him awake telling him that wasn't funny, he mumbled that he was sorry and that its nothing and went back to sleep.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I was annoyed, I thought he was fucking with me. I figured a hot shower would relieve some stress. Once I was done, I got out. After a minute, I realized how quiet it was. I started towel drying my hair. Then I heard a yell, right in my ear. I screamed and quickly covered my mouth. I stopped for a minute to think. I tried to recreate the sound, maybe the way I was drying my hair did it. Or maybe it was this, or that. I didn't fucking know, all I knew was that I couldn't recreate that sound.

I spoke to my ex about everything, we wanted to move but didn't know where or how yet. But that it had to happen. Weeks continue to pass by and my best friend and his bf come to visit. He knew about everything going on, I didn't think he took it too seriously. He thought it was creepy, but in a cool way. Him and his bf were sleeping in the living room when I heared a scream, we went to see what was wrong and he tells us he heared a loud bang in the kitchen. Like someone throwing plates and glass into the sink. But when we went in, there was nothing.

A month passes and something comes up. My ex's mom wanted us to move in to take care of his childhood home. I was so relieved. The night we first moved into the new place, I slept peacefully.

We only stayed in that apartment for the summer. I was thankful it wasn't for any longer. Around autumn I finally told my mom some of what happened, I didn't want to worry her at the time. After I get through half of my experiences, she ends up telling me that during one of her visits to the apartment, she could have sworn she saw an old woman in the bedroom. She tried to bless it but ever since then, she had a weird vibe from the apartment. She wanted to tell me, but didn't want to bring it up since I never mentioned anything to her.

I felt myself go pale, I didn't tell her about the old lady yet. I then also realized my ex was never fucking with me. To this day, it still creeps me out.