Clusters of half read Horror novels rested strown out all over a dark blue comforter blanket like the owner was just too lazy to ever pick the shit up off bed. A large flat screen Tv covered a dry white pasty wall seeming to try and disguise the cracks from wall. On the dresser to the left of the bed is a Black Alienware Laptop that is opened to a Bloggers Horror website that belonged to the woman standing in front of the dresser.<br/><br/>Her thick black hair ended at just above the mid of her back , a black spaghetti strapped shirt , and blue ripped up jeans adorned her body. On the screen in a large box words were being typed by this 23 year old woman.<br/><span style="font-style: italic"><br/>â€œ Hi, I know strange is just a matter of saying but believe me a 23 year old woman who reaps the words strange on an everyday basis. My name is Alyssa Callaway living in a small 5 room apartment with a roommate that goes to the same college as me. To be honest she is a little too obsessed with men for her own good but we will get into obsessions another day. <br/><br/>Now to get into the meaning behind why strange is an everyday occurrence for me. At the small age of 5 I lost my parents. Oh i know it is such a cliche however i did not lose both my parents to death. Just one. The other one was too taken by depression that he got sent to a medical facilitate, and then sent to a mental hospital though the time in-between is blurry like most memories in those childhood years. <br/><br/>So what event caused my motherâ€™s death well itâ€™s a bit of a mystery really. Though i find it more paranormal than mystery myself. She, as the police report had stated, committed suicide by driving a black sudane off the local bridge in a small town in Connecticut. Now yes I would believe this was a normal suicide but the document clearly stated that there was severe turmoil going on inside the car. Blood smeared all over the front windshield , driverâ€™s window , and seat. It was said that the body looked as if claws scraped deeply into the bodyâ€™s vitals, and there was no evidence that there was a passenger in the car. Additionally, the doors were all jammed locked, and the windows were rolled up. <br/><br/>However with no further evidence after the car, and the body were found nearly ...well i can only guess a year after her body disappeared they could only deem it as a suicide. Not long after her body disappeared my father was medicalised and forever deemed unfit to take care of me. So at the age of five i was adopted by a rather lower middle class family who had just enough money ( as i later found out) to ship me off to school considering they had three other kids of their own besides me. <br/><br/>Anyways back to topic i moved from Connecticut to a small lower middle class neighborhood in Main. The house was well normal enough but there was a problem...with me. I could not fall asleep for the longest time because i swore that i could see claw marks scraping across the ceiling. In my teen years my adopted parents told me that one night i had been stuck literally to the wall unable to be pulled off without scissors but i had no recollection of the event. <br/><br/>From then on events started to occur like the feeling of being watched, or a song on repeat in a car that no matter how many times you change the station, the station always goes back. I am 3 years in college for a creative writing degree yet i have an obsession with trying to figure out what could be following me. Certainly it could be a ghost, but my fear is that this more of a demonic ghost. Trapped and after me? <br/><br/>P.S Before i take my leave i was asked to a visit a million dollar mansion from Jacob , a man i recently met who is a paranormal investigator. With any luck we can put our ideas together and come up with something good. â€œ</span><br/><br/>From there she logged off the site , shut the laptop down, and leaned down under the dresser to grab a black suitcase that had already been packed up. She placed the laptop into the suitcase then shut off the roomâ€™s light , walking down the hallway, out the apartment, and down the creaky stairs as if the world could not stop her. Then made her way to a Black Sentra Nissan , throwing the suitcase into the car, and dreading the hours of having no control over her own radio to some unknown force.