Proving I wasn’t “just getting old”
I decided I needed proof – proof that this wasn’t just my memory playing tricks on me.
Every night before bed, I walked through the house and took photos of each room with my phone. Every morning, I compared the pictures with what I saw in front of me.
What I found made my stomach drop.
Furniture wasn’t just slightly moved. Whole pieces were in different places. Sometimes in different rooms.
This wasn’t forgetfulness. This wasn’t “oh, I must’ve done that yesterday.”
Someone – or something – was moving things in my house.
I stopped sleeping properly. I lay awake listening for footsteps, doors, anything.
The house stayed silent.
So I did something I never thought I’d have to do in my own home.
I bought security cameras.
