 When my family moved into the old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere in North Carolina, we thought it was a blessing. As a family of eight, we'd struggle to find an affordable home, let alone one big enough for everyone to be comfortable. Us kids were often three to a room. My mom actually wept when she signed the lease. The house wasn't pretty and would require a lot of fixing up, but for the first time in my life, I'd have my own room. It made it pretty easy to overlook the peeling laminate floor in the kitchen or the stubborn uncleanable stains in the bathtub. A huge ancient rickety farmhouse surrounded by nothing but grass and it was all ours. My siblings and I were thrilled and I'd never seen my parents so ecstatic. We didn't think that there was anything strange about the house until we found the old camcorder. My sister Kathy and I were moving boxes into the attic and trying to organize the cluttered dusty space. Kathy pulled a sheet off of a small table and there in the center sat a camcorder. So of course we watched the tape. Then we watched it again. The man on the tape didn't make any sense. We took the camera to my parents, studying their faces as they watched the tape. They looked as confused and worried as I was, but tried to offer an explanation. Maybe it was a joke or maybe he was making some kind of movie. Maybe he was just crazy or paranoid. I didn't believe them and I knew that they didn't believe what they said either. Nothing seemed normal to me after watching that video. Every creek, every drip was the sound of ghosts groaning through the house. I couldn't get the man's voice out of my head. This house, is it this house? Can she, I don't know, I can't tell, so this house she'll destroy and you'll never leave. It'll twist you and turn you and make you do things and then she'll come whatever you do. Look directly at her. It happened the night that my parents committed suicide. One minute we were watching a movie together. The next my parents excused themselves to their bedroom where they laid on their bed and slit their own throats. Of course I didn't know it at the time, but that was the catalyst. Suddenly my siblings and I weren't alone in the living room. Five people had joined us, spread out through the room. With their backs turned to us and their faces pressed into the wall, I only hesitated for a brief moment before I picked up my youngest sibling, grabbed the hand of another and rushed them to the stairs. A man was facing the wall about halfway up the stairway and we had to squeeze past him, only to be met by four more people in the hallway. I lit my siblings past two of the people and opened my parents' door, ready to usher them inside. The sight of my parents' bloody bodies and two people facing the wall stopped me in my tracks and I spun around to try to prevent the kids from seeing. Come on guys, go to my room. I said as I shut the door behind me, we slid past another person and it was with great relief that I saw my bedroom was empty. What's happening? My little sister Jackie cried and I pulled her into a tight hug. I don't know, bug, but I'll figure it out. Don't worry. After releasing her, I looked each of my siblings in the eyes before telling them, I'll be right back. Don't leave this room no matter what. Understand? I waited until they each nodded and said, okay, good, Kathy, you're in charge. With that, I stepped outside and closed my bedroom door behind me. In the short time that I'd been in my room, three new people had appeared in the hallway. Like the others, they stood perfectly motionless facing the wall. Unlike the others, however, I recognized two of them. It was my parents. Mom, what's going on? What are you doing? I called out as I began to make my way down the hall. I was nearly back to the staircase and about to call out again when I heard from somewhere behind me. I turned to look at the woman behind me, but she hadn't even turned her head towards me. Who? I asked, but she didn't answer. What would happen if I look at her silence? Almost immediately the temperature in the hallway dropped, and it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. The silence was deafening. I did the only thing that I could do. I turned around and face the wall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman making her way up the last few stairs leading into the hallway, and she took my breath away. She was beautiful, practically radiating a strange glow and had long red curls cascading down her shoulders. She seemed to be almost floating, and I couldn't hear her footsteps at all. She turned left and went directly to my parents. I couldn't hear a thing, but I saw her lean forward and kiss my mother, then my father. My parents disappeared. I wanted to cry out, to ask where they'd gone, but I was frozen in place. Just as the tears began to form in my eyes, the woman began to float towards me. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered them with my hands as I pressed my forehead into the wall. I took only a second, but I could feel her presence suddenly behind me. I flinched as she ran her hand up my arm along my shoulders, then down the other arm. I pressed my hands harder over my eyes when her voice rang out, melodic, soft, comforting. Her voice was so soothing that I could feel the warmth of it spread over my body, like a blanket. Don't you wanna- She asked, yes, with every fiber of my being, I shook my head, no, it's alright. Turn around and look at me. She said, and I kept my eyes squeezed shut. Parents, back to you. All you have to do is turn around and look at me. I don't know why I kept refusing, when every inch of me wanted to turn around, to listen to her, to look at her. But I didn't. Turn around and look at me. She roared directly into my ear, and my entire body went rigid. I stood there with my eyes closed for what felt like hours, until I heard a strange sloshing noise coming from downstairs. I slowly, cautiously opened my eyes and looked around at the now empty hallway. The sloshing noise continued, moving throughout the first floor. I hurried back to my bedroom to find my siblings huddled together, terrified. She was holding the youngest who had somehow fallen asleep, and she nearly dropped him as she scrambled into my arms. I gently shushed them before leading them out of the room and down the hall. They followed so closely that they were practically stepping on my heels. We began to make our way down the stairs and came face to face with a man with crazed eyes, tilting a can of gasoline on the floor. It was the man from the camcorder. They have to go. They can't stay here any longer. She can't keep doing this. He muttered, stepping around me and the kids as he continued his way up the stairs. I should have looked at her too, he said. I ushered the kids down the stairs and through the living room, practically shoving them out the front door as the man began to shout and sob behind us. From a safe distance, I sat with my siblings in the grass and watched as our dream home went up in flames. I didn't see the man leave the house. I still don't know what actually happened that day and I have no explanation for what happened to my parents. I don't even know why I'm telling you about this now. All I know is that if you see random people facing the wall in your home, close your eyes and don't look directly at her.