The Bad Man in the Closet
“I lived in Illinois in a town called New Baden. I lived in a trailer that had a demon living inside my four-year-old daughter’s closet.
I closed her closet door every night, but the left side of the sliding doors would always be open in the morning. I said, ‘If you’re afraid of the bad man who lives in your closet, why do you keep opening the door?’ She said, ‘Mommy I don’t. He does.’ When I asked what he looked like, she said he was naked and fat and red all over and that his eyes looked funny. I drew several pictures of eyes – human eyes, cat eyes, and even and goat eyes with the rectangle pupil. When she saw the goat eyes, my daughter got all excited and said, ‘Those look like his eyes.’ My blood ran cold.
Everyone said I was crazy to believe my four-year-old, but the weirdest things happened all the time. I once saw a knickknack on my shelf float out to the middle of the living room. When I said, ‘Hey, don’t touch my stuff,’ it fell to the floor. I left it there. I didnt want to touch it. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back the knickknack was back on the shelf.
Freaking out, I took my daughter to her grandmother’s house to tell her what was going on in the trailer. Her grandmother was a child psychologist, and I thought she could tell if my daughter was lying and what I could do. I left the two of them alone, and about five minutes later, her grandmother brought me to her room and gave me two pictures from church that had been blessed. ‘Hang these in her room,’ she said. ‘They might help.’ So I did.
The next morning, my daughter said Jesus had come out of the picture and told the bad man to leave and never come back. She said the bad man cried like a little girl and was so scared he peed himself. Jesus then told her to go to sleep, that she was safe now.
I knew something bad had been in the house with us as I always felt so sad when I lived there. After Jesus banished the bad thing, my house felt so nice, and I wasn’t sad anymore. I tried to learn about the trailer’s history, like if there had been a death or something, but it was purchased as a repo and back then they didnt tell people if someone died inside a home. I knew for sure the bad thing was gone when my dog had a litter of puppies in the closet. Before, she refused to go in the closet and bit me when I tried to put her inside.
“My true story took place in Fresno, CA. I lived with my family – brothers and sister, mother and father – in a little trailer home in my grandma’s big, creepy backyard with a rundown dirt ditch. At night, we sometimes heard a woman’s cries coming from the ditch, but that’s a different story. There were so many creepy, scary moments in that place, but this story is about my father and mother.
My father used to lock us in the trailer when he went to get drunk. When he came back late one night, he was unusually quiet with a blank look on his face. He just walked by us all laying on the ground and on the couch and went straight to the back room where my mom was laying nervously on the bed. He laid down with his back facing her, and she asked ‘Are you okay?’ He started to quietly laugh, his voice raspy as if his throat was filled with mucus. He then said, ‘My friend wants to come in.’ Scared, my mom asked what friend he was talking about. Quietly my dad said, ‘He’s waiting outside our bedroom door.’
My mom looked toward the bedroom door that was slightly open and saw two yellowish-red eyes peering in at her. She got so scared she yelled ‘No’ and then began to pray. She heard my father say ‘He can’t help you. I already have all of your children.’ When he said that, the smell of death filled the room. Crying, she said,’You’ll never have them.’ She knew she wasn’t talking to my father, but rather something evil inside him. He slowly rolled over to face her, and she stared at him, not knowing what would happen next. When my father finally faced her, his eyes and face were so demented it looked as if there was a demon’s face over his own. It just stared and smiled at her with an evil, twisted look. My mom ran out the room to be with us, but nothing else happened.
My father says he remembers nothing of that night. He doesn’t even remember how he got home.”
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