When I was a little boy between the ages 6 and 13, I was living together with my mom in a small village named Sassenheim, located in The Netherlands. The house we lived in was built before the second world war and was a typical Dutch terraced house. It had a small hall with a small toilet, a large living room, a kitchen, upstairs it had 3 bedrooms, a bathroom with a bath, shower and toilet and an attic. It also had a nice front yard and a sunny back yard. The other people living in the street were in general quite friendly, I had a lot of friends there and became good friends with the boy next door who was a few years older than I was.
Although everything seemed fine, for some reason I always felt a bit uncomfortable in that house, especially when I was home alone or in the evenings and nights. My bedroom was right next to the bathroom so you’d say that if I had to go to the bathroom at night it would be very easy and convenient — the opposite was true however. I was scared shit and would rather hold my pee the whole night than go to the bathroom!
At a certain moment I started to notice strange things happening in the house. I heard loud noises, like someone was banging loudly on the wall. I found a spot in my bedroom that was suddenly crawling with woodlice. A window that spontaneously broke when I wanted to greet my friend, the boy next door, when I saw him coming home…
