Sophomore year in college. I was walking home from class when my roommate called and said, “Open your bedroom door”. I informed him I wasn’t there, and he immediately freaked out because he heard someone dribbling my basketball in the room. When I arrived home, his face was pallid. When we opened the door, I realized that some of my things and the basketball had been moved.
Here is another story: I reside on the top two levels of an apartment complex and have two private patios. I awoke about 3 a.m. one night to my dog barking in my face, which she almost never does. She directed me to the top patio, so I figured she had to go outside and let her out. Instead, she carefully examined the patio before racing back inside and up the stairs, where she barked for me to follow.
I concluded she thought we had an intruder, so I grabbed my bat and headed downstairs. My dog inspected the entire downstairs before freezing and growling at the glass door leading to the bottom terrace. I peeked outside and saw the silhouette of a man standing still on my terrace. I stepped up to the light switch and activated the patio lights.
When I looked back, the patio was empty. It’s nearly hard to get to that balcony without passing past my flat. I have no idea what I saw, but it must have been something—because my dog also saw it.
