The halfway house

Our home was full of spooks, and none of it made sense… By Lesley Mort, 42

Pulling the covers up over my head, I closed my eyes tight and willed sleep to come. It was the time I dreaded most. Sure enough, as I lay still trying to nod off, the sound of raspy breathing filled my pitch-black, bedroom. While my eyes remained shut tight, I could hear footsteps and my senses told me that a man was walking around my room. The closer he got, the louder the breathing became. It was the same each night and I often woke up in a cold sweat having had a nightmare. ‘That man was in my room again last night,’ I told Mum the following day. Her face dropped as she pulled me in close. Like me, she was deeply spiritual. ‘Maybe it's your grandad, coming to…

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Take a Break Fate & Fortune (Digital) - 1 Issue, May 2024

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