So my apartment was haunted.
Haunted like your yoga loving sister with spiritually-in-tuned friends is sending you crystals and sage as a Plan A before calling a priest. I’ve seen Paranormal Activity, thank you, I know how this ends.
We had moved all my things in one day before his, and I slept in the apartment solo that first night. Everything was hunky dory until the second night.
The boyfriend was at his old place, cleaning, so he turn in his keys the next morning, and I was wiping down shelves and laying contact paper in preparation for the storm of unpacking I had planned the next day.
I climbed into bed, texted Kyle to tell him I’d be asleep when he got home, and was just dozing off when I heard a crash at the end of the hallway. Continue reading