The Hole in the bedroom

Informant: Female/23/Korean ancestry
Location: Kaimuki, Oahu

I have a friend that can see spirits. I know what you’re thinking, but just go with it. Since the strange goings-ons in my apartment had graduated to actual physical displeasure, I decided to enlist his help in figuring out what the hell was going on.

First let me give you a little more background. Ever since the shadow man, my spare bedroom had turned into this creepy room that nobody wanted to go into. Every time my friends came over, they always steered clear from that room. It’s nothing we really talked about, just something we all mutually concurred on. That room was creepy.

Case in point: a friend of mine came over. He had only been in my apartment living room before briefly, for about 5 minutes. He never saw the rest of my apartment. But he walked into my apartment and immediately turned the corner into the hallway. I thought he had to use the bathroom, but I didn’t hear the door close so I followed him. I found him standing in the middle of that spare bedroom. He turned around, rubbing his arms, and said “This is a creepy room,” to which I said “Funny you should mention that…”

Back to the psychic friend. He asked me to draw him a map of my apartment labeling just the windows and the doors. So the crude picture I drew him (that didn’t showcase my spectacular artistic ability at all, I might add) looked something along the lines of this:

He looked at the picture for a little while, and started pointing out where my furniture and everything was (keep in mind he's never seen my apartment in his life, not even in pictures). He located my couch, and he also located my computer desk (“I feel a strong electrical disturbance here. Is this where you have a computer or something?”). Then he looked at the spare bedroom and said “There’s a hole here.” A hole? What did he mean?

“There’s a hole here where spirits can come in and out of. There is a man in your apartment who walks the line between malicious and harmless. He walks a path from your spare bedroom, into your bedroom, and into your bathroom.” This would explain why I felt like someone was looking over my shoulder sometimes. And it definitely explains why nobody liked going in that room.

My friend suggested moving my bed further away from the door to stop him from pressing me (it had happened about 3 times). I seemed to be in his way or something. But luckily not too long after that I moved out of that apartment. Not because it was haunted or anything, but because someone purchased it. I often wonder if the new tenants ever experience anything out of the ordinary.