When I was younger, my family and I lived in a mobile home. It was pretty new, maybe five years or so, but were were the second owners. My dad is a night owl and he was hardly ever home at night, so it was usually just me, my mom, and my brother there. The trailer was really long. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a laundry room. My mom and dad's room was on one end of the trailer, my brother's was on the other end, and mine was sort of in the middle. I never slept in it until I was around eleven or twelve, and I'm not entirely sure why. Possibly I was afraid The Man wouldn't like it.
I don't know who The Man was, but I know he was real. My brother and I will not speak of it, but I know he remembers. The Man wasn't malevolent...I don't think. The way the trailer was set up, the main door to the house opened into the laundry room, which was actually just a short hallway, and then there was another door that opened into the kitchen.. To the right was my parents' room, and the refrigerator, to the left was the dining area of the kitchen and then the living room. In the open space in front of my parent's room, between the refrigerator and the wall, he would stand. Laying on the couch in the living room, you would be looking directly at that space.
The Man was very tall, he almost reached the ceiling. He was slim, but not skinny. He had a hat like you'd see a detective wearing in a cop show set in the 1940's and a long coat that he always wore, even in the summer. I couldn't see his features because he would always stay in the shadows. Not a night went by that he wasn't there...unless my father was home.
He never said or did anything but stand there, watching you. Laying in the living room, you would hear slow footsteps on the stone path leading up to the back porch where the main door was. The door never opened, but you would hear his steps on the wooden porch... then on the linoleum in the laundry room...then three steps in the kitchen...and if you dared to look, he would be there...watching.
You could either accept the fact he was there and go back to sleep or back to watching your show...or you could sit there staring at him, wishing he would go away. (And sometimes even asking him to.) But he never did. Even if I slept in my mother's room, I knew he was there on the other side of the door that Mama always kept shut.
I tried to tell her about The Man, but she would always play it off.
"Oh honey, that was just your father messing with you."
"It was just a dream, sweetheart."
"It was your mind playing tricks on you, baby girl."
But I knew, and my brother knew, the truth. I don't know who he was, or why he was there, I just knew he sent terror into the very deepest part of my soul...even if he had no evil intentions.
We moved out when I was thirteen, but my brother lives there now. I haven't asked him if The Man is still there and I haven't spent a night there since we moved out eight years ago...but something tells me he will never leave. He is still there watching over something...or someone.
Submitted November 13, 2014 at 10:27PM by mandy6919 http://ift.tt/111ut4S nosleep
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