You ask something in my cabinet, why is I have a similar view lately caused by a long insomnia?

 Why do I unwittingly shudder every time, as soon as it opens with something with any inside the door of the kitchen cabinet? And why in my thirty with a little already clearly noticeable penetrating on the temples of Sedina? Ok, listen to this eerie story. You will most likely laugh incredulously, as many did, to whom I tried to tell about my fear. More recently, I myself would be happy to join you. A couple of months ago, sitting in the evening on a light kitchen with a glass of brandy in his hand, I was embarrassed and fake eats the mockery of friends. Now I don't know what to do - cry or laugh. Every morning I, standing in front of the mirror, check how much gray hairs were added for the past nightmare night. For some time I'm afraid to sleep. Or rather, I'm afraid I wake up among the night, awakened by a quiet creak of the door, and a deaf voice from the dusty depths of the cabinet will call me by name. It all started about two years ago. At that time, the next major project was approaching our company. As usual, we did not fit in time, and I had to go home almost to midnight. Breakdown, I had enough forces only to drink a bottle of beer and, without waiting for the end of the evening news, fall to sleep. I never complained about sleep, especially in such periods. The alarm clock was to show exactly six, so that by half of the seventh I could finally get a break from the bed and start a new calorous day. But it had to wake up much earlier. My eyes remained closed, and for some time I could not understand what was the reason for sudden awakening. And suddenly it felt that someone had in the room. That is, now it is already with confidence that someone was there. Then it was only some kind of indefinite feeling that it is difficult to express in words. The lying face to the wall, on the very edge of the decomposed sofa, it seemed to me that someone stands at my back at the corner. On the one hand, I could not know if there was someone there, and I could not be there anyone ... Yes, I could not: no sounds came from the corner, and yet I someone did not know the presence of a certain foreign creature. I can assume that you will say now. The same me was told all psychiatrists that advised me on this issue: "Many people have such a feeling at times. It seems to them that they feel behind someone's gaze ", etc., and so on. If this feeling it was over, I would gladly agree with you. But after this, the steps were heard. After standing a few seconds near the closet, as if I could fully realize the presence of someone else's presence, it went to the kitchen. The gait was not careful - the unknown someone, apparently, felt his owner and did not even try to hide his presence. These were the steps of a lonely man, who suddenly suddenly stood in the toilet. I want to say that the sounds were quite distinct, but I did not hear them in the sense, as people usually hear. I felt the steps. I felt like sounds, bypassing the hearing organs, penetrated directly into the brain. Witnesses describing the experience of telepathic communication claim that the voice of the interlocutor was distributed right in the head. In the same way, I perceived the presence of this being. Steps, as it were, were born in my brain, and at the same time it was possible to clearly imagine the place from where they would have. In the same way, I rather felt than heard the switch in the kitchen. The fear at that time was not, he came later when the visits of the beings became more persistent and regular. At that first time, only a few weak beats came out of the kitchen, as if someone moved to the dishes left on the table. Then it snapped the switch again, and the steps followed back to the closet. And then there was a sound, which until the end of life will pursue me in nightmares - a quiet creak of the open door among the night silence. For a few minutes I lay, waiting for the continuation, but everything was quiet. Only quietly ticked alarm clock, but somewhere very far alarm has modeled. Finally, assuring yourself that all this was a dream, I calmed down. And in the morning an incident seemed to me trifling and ridiculous. Loaded by work, I practically forgot about this case and remembered only two months later. Then I quickly later returned home from some rulki in a small signing and, having fallen off the clothes, fell into bed. As you already guessed, I woke up again before dawn, which in my state it was quite amazing. Through the closed door, the bathroom came the muted murmion of the water crane. At first I didn't even pay special attention to him. Alcohol did his job by tightening me in the bunch of sleep filled with scraps of dreams. In the morning, most likely, this incident would have forgotten, as what happened earlier. God, how naive people are! Sleep was ready to take me again into the desired embrace, as suddenly he suddenly he was heard, as if someone washed hands. Having dried, I listened. The splash was repeated, then the murmur was amended. I just felt how it spins the crane, although I could not hear this, could not. Strange was a feeling. Then the door opened. Damn it, I am ready to swear anything, that through tightly compressed eyelids I was distinguished by the lack of light. Clickped the switch, and at that moment the fear for the first time scraps in the depths of the heart. Previously, it was still possible to comfort that all sounds are coming from the apartments from above or below, although the house is our old building, with thick brick walls. If even some noises and pierced through powerful overlaps, they were too weak. Of course, a cauldronous consciousness might have been able to book a picture itself, but when it clicked the switch, I realized that everything was going on in my apartment. Because heard another sound. Very weak, he was at the limit of hearing, but it is impossible to confuse any other. The fact is that in the switch near the bathroom, with each click, the sprinking has risted. The ringing is very quiet and, if you do not know about him, then, most likely, and do not hear it. At least during the day. But now, at night, in absolute silence, when neither sound did not come from the street, he sounded rather clearly. I give my head to cut off, which heard the thoughts of the spring revealed. From the door to the bathroom until the bedroom is literally a few steps. And, making these steps, something froze on the threshold. Describing the first case, I forgot to mention that the sounds of steps were rather strange. Not entirely human. The legs flew along the floor, as if the going was wound into the flippers, and at the same time is not too loud. Just quiet "slap-slap". But I am sure that just a barefoot man does not go. So, stopping at the entrance to the bedroom, it froze for a while. I presented how it looks at me. Then, after a few wonderful seconds, the slaps proceeded to the closet. Twice the door creaks, inside something he was dried and, finally, everything was amended. Thank God that I was drunk, otherwise I could not fall asleep until the morning. But, inxicated, after a few seconds already snapped, forgetting his fear. After this incident, I decided to talk about what was happening for the first time. Just mentioned this, half-go, at some party. Friends gladly laughed at the "Strachilka", only one unfamiliar girl changed in his face. She somehow looked at me strangely, but, not allowing the topic to develop, translated the conversation to another direction. I guess the mood of others, I myself was laughed, but the next night everything was repeated again, and in the worst form. This time it went to the toilet. It sounds ridiculous, but believe me, now I am not at all to fun. First, the depth of the cabinet came the vague grumbling. For the most part, incense, it, nevertheless, the impression of some terrible prayer in an incomprehensible, unrealistic language. The door of the door blade closed on the nerves, goosebumps ran along the skin. And again quiet slap-slap. Opened and closed the door to the toilet. And, after a few seconds of silence (neither the murmion, no screenshots of the seating), something passed into the kitchen. It stated there, again in complete silence, and returned to the bedroom. As in the previous visit, kneading on the threshold, it suddenly approached the sofa and stopped right near me. My heart beat so loudly, which seemed to hear it. However, with all his might pretending to be sleeping, I tried to breathe smoothly and deeply. Breathing creatures was not heard, only some sound. Quiet hissing and crackling, as a swelling of a gramophone on the last track of the plate. And smell. The whole room filled its smell. Stank like in the cheese corner of the old barn. Gnill, mold and something else elusive, but the same nasty. I lay on the right side and suddenly felt with horror how it climbs through me, putting on a free place. It was drilled like a cat, comfortable, and calmed down. Now we lay literally in several centimeters from each other. I was able to pretend to sleep with pretimier. And I felt like it, without taking off, looks at me. I look at a cold meaningless look of fish eyes, as if he knows that I do not sleep, and tries to climb. The attack of panic did not allow even opening his eyes. And despite this, I still fell asleep very soon. Since then, it is no longer returning to the closet. It comes out of it, for a while wanders around the apartment, sighing and grumbling on his incomprehensible language, then stacked on a free place. It looks at me. I know that I look - until I fall asleep. Strange, but in such cases it is possible to fall asleep quite quickly. At times, the second half of the sofa is busy. You understand what I mean. In these nights it does not appear. Sometimes I am ready to choose from the street and drag into bed a dirty spinling beggar, just not to hear this squeak. And I'm afraid to fold the sofa, although I do not know what will happen. It is likely that it will hurt near me, happiers, and go back to the closet. But what if not? You ask why not lock the closet? Oh, believe me, I tried to do it. In the door there is a simplest castle closed on a small key. Just so that the child cannot see his New Year's gift ahead of time. Once in the evening I did, but it did not add tranquility. I had such a feeling that everything became only worse. Something inside said: "better open." But, unfortunately, without hovering the voice of the mind and holding the key in the fist, as if he was the charm, I went to bed. And woke up in a couple of seconds before it tried to go out. Another dreamed in Drema, I heard it pushed the door. Then also again. Immediately after this, a whole series of shocks came from the closet. I instantly flew the remnants of sleep. Harding the key in the sweaty palm, I waited with horror that it would be next. At the door several times hit, everything is persistent and persistent. It was not drummed, asking for open, the blows were blind and not so often, as if someone beat his shoulder, trying to break a miserable barrier. And when it is already beginning to seem that with the next push, the door will fly out, it suddenly slept. I decided it was that it calmed down, how a terrible cry suddenly rang out of the closet. Half-sided brighton, it was filled with despair, nightmarish prayer and malicious. Wild, endless angry. At this point, I myself was ready to wrap a bad voice and jump onto the platform, knocking the front door. I only held me wild horror, tight harness pulled the whole body. There was no strength to even throw off the blanket. Harding your teeth and clogged down the head, I expected that it would now break out of his unreliable prison and would make me. If there were even one sound from the closet, I would have been crying or stayed for a lifetime. And maybe both together. But it is gone. Most of this night failed to fall asleep. So I knew until dawn, squeezing in his right hand almost destroyed me the talisman. As soon as the room was light enough, I stuck into the kitchen and, rank a full glass of vodka, drank a volley. Sour on hand, smelling afterwards and copper, on the feet feet, I shoved to the closet. The key turned in a well with a ligament cleaned smuggling. I am amazing your courage or, rather, madness, I opened the door. Inside, naturally, nothing was. That is, nothing terrible or strange. A couple of suits on a hanger, an old leather jacket, a few small boxes with different jackets and a burnt iron. And to the reverse side of the door, the adhesiveness of some kind of loskutok, scattered in dust, during the first touch. I spent the next few nights with friends. Signed something about the rigged repair. But it is impossible to always dangle on someone else's apartments - and, waiting for the worst, I still returned. On the first night, held at home after trying to locate the closet, it touched me. At first, as always, it stated near the sofa, hanging over me and deaf grumble. Sometimes I think the familiar syllables in this grumble. At times, his muttering becomes more legible, and then it seems to me that it is trying to pronounce my name. Passing through me, it fell on the chest. At first, it was lying without moving, and suddenly something cold and long, reminding the snake. Through a thin blanket, it taped my hand, as if it crawled around a lot of big beetles. And then touched to the face. The touch was confused. It was not a feeling similar to when someone touches your nose, cheek, or lips. It touched until the whole person at once, at the same time. It fell to dozens of slippery little cilia, as if cold sleet fell on her face. Why didn't I throw a wardrobe? I do not know. I can not. For some reason, it scares me more than night visits. At least, nothing bad has not happened yet. So far. You will not believe, but I am very scary. To me, a man who passed through two "hot spots" and committed more than thirty parachute jumps. To me, a few years ago, I have failed under the ice and only thanks to the cold reason, the remaining alive. I'm scared. Every evening, when I go to bed, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of my fear. I'm afraid of that time, waking up among the nights, I can not more make a feeling of deep horror and open my eyes. xxxx