I have always been very close to my parents. Literally tied to my mother’s apron strings since I was a child. I have always longed for freedom. I wanted to be independent… to do things on my own. I wanted to just let down my hair and breath a little but being the only child of my parents was like torture sometimes. My desire to live my life for myself and by myself seemed far-fetched. With my parents’ over bearing and over protective attitude, it was almost impossible for me to do anything without being chaperoned.
My first taste of independence came when I got to the University. Freedom tasted really good. Not that I abused the privilege but I was happy that I could finally get to do things by myself. If Mom was given the chance, she would have moved into the hostel with me.
My five years stay in the University was over before I could blink twice. Going back home to the prison I called home wasn’t appealing to me one bit but I had to anyways. I didn’t have a choice at that point. But as soon as I got a good job and was able to save enough money, I announced to my parents that I was moving out. As expected, we had a big fight over the issue before they reluctantly gave in.
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When I got my own apartment, I felt fulfilled, it felt like I had accomplished something big. It was a beautiful service flat… nice and warm and cozy. I wasn’t home most of the time because I had to be at work but I was excited to return to my own space every night. I was really enjoying my own company.
Now let me tell you when I started having concerns about my apartment. So, I’m usually a very meticulous person. I like my things to be where I want them and how I want them. However, six months after I moved into the flat, I began to notice some creepy stuff happening.
I would meet the toilet seat up, tap running, empty bottles of water on my kitchen counter, the door of the refrigerator open or the air conditioning unit was left on. I didn’t do those things. I wasn’t careless or clumsy so it bothered me that someone was coming into my flat in my absence to mess things up. Only one person came to my mind and it was the manager of the apartments. I knew he had spare keys to each flat.
I lodged a formal complaint to the building owners and they assured me that the manager only had access to the apartments when there was an emergency. I was told to do a double check of my apartment before going out to ensure that I wasn’t doing those things unconsciously. I felt insulted.
When I told my parents what I was going through, they asked me to come stay with them for a while and I agreed. I sort of enjoyed coming back to my old room and seeing things exactly how I left them so I stayed with them for about a month before returning to my place. Surprisingly, everything was just as I left them.
I had peace of mind for a few weeks until the strange things began to happen again. Things were getting scarier and I was at the verge of losing my mind. First, I found a dead bat in my bedroom. Then another time I found worms on my bed. The last straw was when I saw blood in my bathtub. This was it. I was tired. To make matters worse, I asked to see the CCTV footage for the building and I was told that they weren’t working. How convenient! I decided to take the bull by the horn and install cameras in my own apartment.
I’m so glad I took the action to install cameras in my apartment. That’s the best decision since sliced bread.
I have just made a startling discovery and I now know who has been trying to mess with my mind. The perpetrator is my mother. It’s been her all along. In her bid to make me come back home, she has been trying to scare me out of my flat. How she managed to get a spare key still beats me.
No wonder she was happy when I spent a month with her and daddy. No wonder she keeps advising that I leave the creepy flat and come back home. It was all beginning to add up.
If I know my parents as much as I do, then I can bet that mom wasn’t in on this alone. She definitely had the support of her husband.
I’ve asked for a transfer from my office. I want to go as far away from my parents as possible. They really need to grow up. I have not yet confronted them about their many attrocities…let them continue to think they are scaring me.
I am waiting for my transfer to be through then I’ll deal them a blow they won’t recover from in a hurry. In the meantime, I’ll just sit back and watch as mom continues to act her drama.
