I hired a woman to clean the house while my whole family was out. An hour later, she called me and whispered, «Ma’am, is someone else in the house?» I froze.
«No, why do you ask?»
«There’s a woman on the second floor.»
I started shaking. «Get out of there right now!»
I called the police and sped back home. I’m glad you’re here. If you’re watching this video, give it a like, subscribe to Elderly Stories, and tell me in the comments where you’re listening to my revenge story from.
I want to know how far it’s gone. That day, I woke up planning to clean the house. I wanted everything to be tidy, especially before the rains came when the humidity makes everything feel heavier.
I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed a rag, and stood in front of the living room window, ready to start. While I was cleaning the glass, the phone in my pocket buzzed. I looked at the screen.
It was Elena, my childhood friend who I hadn’t seen in many years. Her cheerful voice filled the phone, telling me she was just passing through town for one day and wanted to invite me for coffee. I felt my heart warm hearing her familiar voice.
Elena and I shared so many memories: running through the field, staying up late, talking about our dreams. How could I say no? But thinking about everything I had to clean, I hesitated for a moment. I couldn’t just leave the house like this.
Then I remembered Caroline, the girl who lived down the alley near my house. She was in her early twenties, petite, kind, and needed extra work to pay for her studies. I called her, and she gratefully accepted right away.
I gave her specific instructions: clean the library, scrub the second-floor stairs, and above all, be careful with my husband Stephen’s old shelves where the dust collected. I left her a spare key and asked her to lock up tight when she finished. I drove to the coffee shop, the garden where Elena was waiting.
We sat under a big tree. She told me about her life in the city, about her adult children, and I told her about Stephen, his job as a writer for the newspaper, and my quiet, though sometimes empty, days. We laughed, remembering old times.
In the middle of our chat, my phone rang again. I saw the number. It was Caroline.
I smiled, thinking she was calling to say she was finished, but when I answered, I didn’t hear her usual timid voice. Instead, I heard heavy breathing, like she was trying to hold back panic. «Mrs. Emily,» she whispered, her voice trembling so much I could barely hear her.
«Is someone else in the house?»
My heart stopped. «No,» I replied, trying to sound calm. «I’m having coffee. Oh, my husband is at the newspaper. He won’t be back until tonight. What’s wrong, Caroline?»
On the other end, there were a few seconds of silence, just her short, gasping breaths.
Suddenly, her voice broke. «There’s a woman on the second floor. I was cleaning the stairs and I saw her. She was wearing a long white dress. Her hair was a mess. She walked down the hall and disappeared into the last room.»
Her words were like an icy knife in my chest. I tried to stay calm, but the hand holding the phone was shaking. My first thought was that someone had broken in.
The house was old, but we always locked everything carefully. How could anyone have gotten in? I apologized to Elena, telling her I had an emergency. She looked at me, worried, but I just shook my head, unable to explain more.
I told Caroline over the phone, «Caroline, get out right now! Lock the door and wait outside. I’m on my way.»
I called the police while I drove, my voice choked with anxiety. I explained that there was an intruder in the house, trying to give details, though my mind was a whirlwind. I tried calling Caroline again, but she didn’t answer.
Every ring that went unanswered made my heartbeat harder, like it was going to burst out of my chest. I imagined the worst: that something had happened to her or that the intruder had attacked her. That day, the streets of my town seemed endless, even though I was flooring the accelerator.
When I got home, the police car was already parked in front of the door. Caroline was sitting huddled on the step, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. I ran to her, hugged her, and asked anxiously, «Are you okay? Did you see anything else?»
Caroline just shook her head, her lips pressed tight as if she couldn’t speak a single word. Two police officers, one middle-aged with a serious look and a younger one, came out of the house. They said they had checked every corner, every room, every closet, under the beds, and even the shed in the backyard.
There was no one. There were no signs of forced entry. All the doors and windows were locked without a single scratch or strange footprint. I sighed in relief, but the feeling of unease wouldn’t leave me.
Caroline said, still trembling, «I swear I saw her, Mrs. Emily. She… she didn’t seem real. She was like a shadow. I’m not brave enough to go up to the second floor again.»
I patted her shoulder to comfort her, but inside, a doubt began to grow. This house was over 70 years old. It had belonged to Steven’s family before we moved in.
The stone walls, the creaking wooden doors, the dark corners… they had always made me feel like they were hiding something. But a woman? I couldn’t imagine it.
Just then, I heard Steven’s car pull up the stone driveway. He got out, his face surprised to see the police car and me next to Caroline. I grabbed his arm and quickly told him what happened.
I expected him to be worried like me, to want to find out what was going on, but Steven just smiled slightly, a smile I had rarely seen. He went over to Caroline, gave her a pat on the shoulder, and said in a soft, almost mocking voice, «You were probably just tired and mistook a reflection for a shadow. Our house is old. It has a lot of corners that play tricks on your eyes.»
Caroline looked down without saying another word. I looked at her, my heart sinking. I knew she wasn’t a girl prone to fantasies.
She was hard-working, honest. She had no reason to make something like this up, but Steven’s look, his calmness, started to make me doubt myself. Maybe he was right.
I apologized to the police for making them come out. A bitter shame rose in my chest. I paid Caroline, told her to go rest, and promised I would call her if I needed her.
Three months later, I officially retired. No more rushed mornings getting ready for work. No more endless meetings. No more days racing against deadlines.
The old house in my quiet town became my world, but the change of pace made me lose sleep. Every night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the ticking of the clock in the darkness. On those nights, I started noticing strange sounds coming from the attic.
At first, they were faint noises, like something small accidentally falling to the floor. I convinced myself it was just the wind blowing through the old windows, or the wood creaking with the weather, but little by little, the sounds became clearer, more distinct. I heard something like a chair being dragged across the floor, slowly, heavily.