If someone had told me what happened to my family, I would have struggled to believe itunless I had lived it with my very own eyes. Everything began six months ago, when my dearly loved grandfather passed away and left behind his charming flat in the heart of London. After about a month of mourning, my family and I decided it was time to clear out his place and prepare it for sale. During the day, we packed Grandpas things into large bags and tried to make sense of our memories as we worked.
By evening, everyone had gone back home, but my brother, William, chose to stay the night in the flat. At around six in the morning, my phone rang wildlyWilliam on the other end, his voice shaking with fear, begging me to come over straight away. I didnt hesitate, throwing on yesterdays coat and rushing across town. As soon as I walked through the door, I found William visibly shaken, his skin almost ghostly pale. There was a strange, heavy silence and echoes of footsteps in the next room, though the flat was completely empty. The air felt thick, and as goosebumps prickled across my skin, I felt a chill deep in my bonesboth of us were so terrified, we bolted from the flat without looking back.
It took us half an hour sat huddled together outside before we dared to return. What we saw then floored us: every one of Grandads belongings had been perfectly placed back in their usual spots, neat as a pin. The sense of relief was immense, but the oddness of it left both of us rattled. After that night, none of us wanted to set foot in the flat again, and we decided to hand all the selling arrangements over to the estate agent. Luckily, the new tenants havent had a single strange experience. Still, every time I remember that unsettling night, I shiver all over. I doubt Ill ever forget the feeling.
