In the end, it was something that left me with a deeper respect for the unknown. There are things in this world that maybe will never be fully explained, and maybe that is okay. The haunted house will forever be part of my story, reminding me that sometimes the most unexpected experiences can shape one in ways one never imagined. Even after stepping out of the haunted house, everything still haunted my thoughts, as no pun intended.
It wasn’t just the eerie encounters or the cold spots but how it affected me at an emotional and mental level. I started replaying every moment in mind, trying to understand how it had all gone down, which left me questioning: was all this real, or had my imagination filled out the blanks created by isolation and fear?
It is a little interesting, though, that my dreams seemed to become more real in the weeks after I left. Several times, I dreamed of the house – sometimes it was empty and lonely, other times full of life and activity with figures moving freely through its halls. One of the most vivid was when the figure in my shadow from my room seemed beckoning instead of standing there asking for help. I got up with an undefined sense of unfinished business, if you will, as if the entity wasn’t finished with me yet.