grandma’s rocking chair was moving when i came downstairs. slow. gentle. like someone had just stood up.
and the chair? it just started rocking again.
i don't remember winding it.
i’m not alone here. i never was. Want me to turn this into a fake Reddit nosleep post or a tweet thread instead?
no one was there.
the back of the photo says: “she wanted to stay. you wanted to leave. we listened to you.”
downstairs, the front door is locked from the inside. all the windows too. grandmas house part 5
i found a box in the attic labeled “don’t open until i’m gone.” inside: a photo of me. age 7. except i never stood in front of that fireplace. and i never had a twin.