When I was home, I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it, I was met by a small child who was drenched in rain, shaking and crying. She needed help and was scared.
This is my mother’s house. Hi. Please bring her to me. Her voice wavered as she asked.
Trying to calm her down, I remarked, “Honey, you’re confused.” “Your mom isn’t here…”
Her despair grew as she sobbed, “No, it can’t be!” Dad claims she disappeared too, but that’s just not true! It’s her home! “WHERE IS MY MOM?
I was lost, man. I had no idea what to do.
“Honey, come on in. I’ll get you some cookies and we’ll try to work this out,” I said, inviting her over. After a moment of hesitation, she entered as her small shoulders still shook from crying.
While I thought about how to contact her parents or the police, I headed to the kitchen for milk and cookies.
When I returned, there was no one in the living room. The girl disappeared. She disappeared without a trace. I looked in every room and crevice but she was not there. Even when I ran outside and called for her, she was nowhere to be found.
I was nervous the rest of the night, wondering if I had imagined the whole event.
But when I opened the door the next day, I saw her again. Her eyes were wide with horror and this time she looked much more distressed.
“Oh my god,” I whispered to myself. “This child…”
She pleaded, “Please help me find my mom.” “I am aware that she is present. She must be present.”
I took a deep breath and decided to find the truth. I said, “Come in” once more, but this time I stayed by her side.
“What’s your name?” I asked trying to calm her down.
“Emily” she muttered.
“Okay Emily, I’ll help you. But you have to stay here with me.”
I called and gave the local police as detailed an explanation as possible.
Once the cops got there, they took my statement and searched the house, but Emily had already left again. They left, leaving me with more questions than answers, even though they promised to look into it.
I couldn’t sleep at night. I couldn’t help but think of Emily and her frantic search for her mother.
As I was getting ready to leave for work the next morning, I saw a note tucked under the door. The handwriting on it belonged to a child.
“I appreciate you trying to help me. My mom and I are close, I know. I’ll keep looking. Cheers, Emily.”
As I held the news in my hands, a strange combination of determination and sadness hit me. I couldn’t let it go. In the following days, I began to look into the past of my home and surroundings. I talked to longtime locals, went to the library, and even got in touch with the historical society.
What I discovered was terrifying. Once upon a time there lived in my house a woman named Margaret and her little daughter Emily.
Emily was placed in foster care and Margaret disappeared under suspicious circumstances. After Emily eventually fled her foster home and disappeared, the case was never solved.
Everything was now obvious. Emily didn’t realize how much time had passed; her spirit was still searching for her mother. In an attempt to reconcile mother and daughter, I decided to hold a modest ceremony in the house. I put the flowers on the table, lit the candles,, and told Emily out loud that her mother loved her and that they would be reunited in peace.
The house was quiet that night. I knew that Emily’s mother and her mother were finally at peace. Although I never saw Emily again, I often felt a pleasant presence in the house – like someone was watching me.
I was moved by Emily’s undying love for her mother and vowed to help those in need from that day forward. And I couldn’t help but think of that little girl who showed me the true meaning of love and family every time I heard a knock on the door.
The mysterious visit of Emily, the little girl who appeared at my door on two separate occasions, left a profound impact on my life. Despite my initial confusion and fear, I felt a deep obligation to uncover the truth behind her agonizing search for her mother.
My investigation revealed the tragic story of a mother and daughter who once lived in my home but were separated under dark circumstances. The haunting realization that Emily’s ghost was still searching for her mother led me to a small ceremony in hopes of bringing some semblance of peace to them both.
Although Emily never returned, I felt a sense of closure and peace in the house, as if her mother’s spirit was finally at rest. The experience changed me deeply, inspiring a newfound determination to help others and a deeper appreciation of family bonds. Every knock on my door now serves as a reminder of the enduring power of love and the importance of compassion in our lives.