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The original was posted on /r/truescarystories by /u/MsSuicideSheep666 on 2025-05-18 16:37:26+00:00.

I remember it so vividly. I was 12 years old and had just recently moved into a new house in rural Missouri. It was a winter school night. Well, school morning. I woke up randomly at exactly 5:23am, a couple hours before my alarm clock would go off which wasn’t a normal thing for me as I was a heavy sleeper.

For a little context, I only had a twin bed and a nightstand next to it with my alarm clock on top, and an empty bookshelf across the room. (Like I said we’d just moved in so my room was pretty empty at the time.)

I stared at my alarm clock for a moment, still half asleep before I felt a weird chill up my spine and felt that someone was watching me. I then turned my head over to the end of my bed to see the silhouette of my little brother, who was about 7yrs old at the time, standing at the edge of it in the darkness.

My first instinct was to get angry at him. “Xander! What are you doing in my room?! Get out!” Silence.

“Xander.” I said again as I sat up in bed. But the only response I got from him was him taking a few steps closer to me. I leaned in closer, and he did as well, but very much more than I did. I then see through the moonlight that this isn’t my little brother at all.

It’s a faceless child, inches away from my face. It didn’t have hair, clothes, nothing. Just white skin. (It almost looked like Dear David if you’ve ever heard about that story before except without the caved in head)

The moment I realized this I screamed as loud as I could, which seemed to startle it. My scream sent it flying backwards to the ground and it knocked my alarm clock down in the process. It began to crawl backwards, almost spider-like into the corner of my bookshelf and curled up on the floor, burying its head into its knees.

This is the moment when my mom came and turned on the light and asked me what was wrong. When she turned on the light, it was gone.

I was sobbing and shaking and told her what had happened, but she said I was only dreaming. I tried telling her that no, I was very much awake, and pointed to my alarm clock which was face down and halfway across the room.

She still insisted it was just a dream, but let me sleep in her room regardless. I didn’t even enter my room for 2 weeks until my mom had forced me to. I never saw it again, but that didn’t mean me and my family were ghost free. We constantly heard things. Cups sliding across the counters, bells ringing, child voices, etc.

I’m 23 now, and when I look back on that memory I know it was probably just a child spirit that was curious. And if that’s the case, I truly feel bad for it. But it still traumatized the fuck out of me. I just recently talked to my mom about this. She said that actually, she believed me at the time and was just as scared as I was. She just didn’t want to scare me even more by validating the experience.

To this very day, I try not to look for him in the dark at night.