The following is a true story about a rare, one time event that could have ended with a spot on the cover of a newspaper instead of a spot on a website. And, for that, I am too grateful. Before I begin into the bizarre event, I'd like to describe my first encounter with the supernatural.

I moved around a lot, but for my purposes, I'd like to start in Houston, Texas. I lived here for three years while in middle school. I became aware of the ghost inhabiting my home here when I saw a shadow run through a dark room. I don't know what I was thinking, but then I decided it would be a good idea to throw a small rubber ball into the room. It started moving as predicted, but toward the end of its bounce in the center of the room, the ball "bounced" about five feet off the ground and hovered in place for a quick moment before falling to the ground. This initially freaked me out. I was 13 or 14 at the time, so that definitely scared me. I ended up liking the ghost, though. He generally kept to himself and only occasionally did he decide to mess with the temperature of the room.

In 2000, I moved to San Antonio, Texas which is about three hours away. Within a week of moving, I discovered that our old ghost had followed us, and about six months after that, we learned about another ghost. Well, there was at least one other. A friend of the family, who was overly sensitive to the supernatural, began to warn us of one of the things in our apartment. She told us that there was one that seemed to have been murdered in the bathroom. He felt like he had a will to be malicious. Apparently, he didn't like the fact that people were moving in and out of the place where he'd died, and decided to mess with us by holding the doors closed when we wanted to use the bathroom.

Not much beyond that ever happened until July or August the next year. It was four o'clock in the morning this time, and I was awakened by my older sister playing music on the computer. She had just found a bunch of old songs that had been lost on our computer. I came out and joined her, and for about twenty minutes, we listened to music. Then, we came across an old Britney Spears parody that was downloaded from a radio station's website while we still lived in Houston. My sister pressed play.

The song was terribly distorted. The voice was deep, slow and mumbled. We could only make out a word here and there. Then we noticed the playtime. The recording was 45-50 seconds long. When I glanced down, it read over one minute. We turned off the song and went back to the rest of the media. A couple minutes later, I noticed a banging in the back of the apartment. We lived on the second floor and shared only one wall. That wall was not it. I ignored it, and figured since my sister didn't say anything, that I might have just imagined it. A couple of minutes later, I heard the banging again. This time it moved to the wall we shared. I exchanged a quiet, scared glance with my sister when she turned around to look at me. Then, we heard it again. Three solid pounds on the bathroom - the room right next to us.

We tried to dismiss the last two as our neighbor working, but that still didn't explain the pounds on the lone wall in our room. Then, suddenly, there were three violent pounds on the wall just above the computer monitor, shaking the ceiling lamp hanging over my head. Moments after that, the violent pounds covered the entire wall without as much as disturbing the closed blinds.

Then, it stopped. I stood there behind my sister's chair, staring at the sliding doors. I had to go check the lock. Thankfully, it was locked the whole time. Then we both ran into our mother's room where she was sleeping and hadn't heard a single thing.

I have no idea what happened that night, but whenever I talk about it, I always refer to it as "that time when a demon tried to kill me." Never before had I been that afraid for my life. And, the fact that it never happened again, scares me even more. It seems almost like I am waiting for it to happen again. And this time, I might forget to lock a door.