When my son was six years old, we went shopping for bunk beds so he could have his friends sleep over. At the time, we weren’t in a great financial situation and I was thrilled when I was able to locate one second hand. It was in an affordable antique store an hour’s drive away from home and it was just what we wanted.
We loved the fact that it was hand-made, sturdy and varnished pine. It was obvious that it was well taken care of.
Up to this point, we had never exposed my son to ghost stories, which was what made this story so frightening.
To protect my son’s privacy, I’ll call him Michael. He was so excited when we made the bed on the first day.
He was a little scared to sleep on the top, so he gathered his teddy and favorite racing car to take to bed with him.
I read him his favorite story and kissed him goodnight, before finishing the dishes and going to bed myself.
It was after midnight when I heard Michael scream at the top of his lungs. I raced into his bedroom as fast as I could.
My little boy was as white as a sheet and shaking
I flicked the light on and saw him huddled on the other side of the room, crying and pointing to the bunk-bed.
Rushing over to him and picking him up, I looked back to the bed but couldn’t see anything wrong.
I kissed Michael and asked, “What happened, sweetie?”
He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and shook his head.
He finally said in a tiny voice, “The girl with the jumpy face!”
I pressed for more but he wouldn’t elaborate.
We let him sleep with us that night, but we talked him into sleeping in his own bed the next night, with the lights on.
Again – just after midnight – Michael screamed and called for us. We both got up and went down to his room.
Before we got there, my husband put his hand out to stop me. As Michael continued to scream – my blood froze.
In front of Michael’s closed door was a little girl crouching down like she was preparing to leap at us.
She was dirty and her hair was matted but the most disturbing thing about her was her zig-zagging features..
Her face was like a turbo earthquake. Even creepier, was the strange rattling sound coming from her throat.
Something straight from the worst ghost stories
My husband yelled, “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”
Then she growled, turned around and leapt through the closed door.
Like a ghost walking through walls, she disappeared, while my husband rushed at the door and tried to open it.
He pushed and wrestled with the door while Michael screamed, “Mommy, Daddy – she’s coming to get me!”
My instincts kicked up a notch as I rushed to my husband and helped him crash through the door.
When we burst into the room, the wretched girl was trying to stuff her little, dirty fist into Michael’s mouth.
She turned to look at us and I screamed when her face started swirling into a million different faces.
The unholy howl coming from inside her made my flesh crawl, but we ran at her to get her off our son.
As soon as we got to them she disappeared. Michael had been holding his teddy to his mouth and he’d wet his pants.
We could still hear the horrifying rattling and chattering in her throat, but she was nowhere to be seen.
That night, we built a bonfire and burned the beds. As we watched the flames, we heard a loud ghastly yowl, but the “jumpy” face ghost-girl haunted us no more.
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