I am 11 years old. My little sister was about a year old. Two years prior, my mom and I had moved to the small town my Dad had been working in, just a few hours south of where I was originally raised (up until this point). I do not recall the last time I saw ‘the witch’ but I know that by this time, I hadn’t seen her in a while.
The house we lived in had 3 bedrooms. My sister’s room and mine were connected by a walk-through-bathroom. One night I wake up to use the bathroom, and as I stand up, walking away from the bed towards the bathroom door, I see her. The Witch.
She’s standing in the far corner of my room. I was frozen with fear. She raises her right arm and points over my shoulder, in the direction behind me. I swiftly turn around and there is a man. He is standing on the opposite side of my bed.
He is tall, and dark. He has no distinctive face, but a ‘man’. His build was slim, but his shoulders were broad. Just a dark mass of…nothing…but something. As I’m staring at this ‘man’, I snatch my attention back to the far corner and The Witch is gone, then back to the man, now also gone. I scanned the room frantically and there was no one.
I never saw The Witch again.
That's Not Me 
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