PERFECT CIRCLE

Summer between my junior and senior year in college. I was living in my college house in a small town in southern MN. Three of my housemates were also there that summer. We mostly spent our time working or getting drunk or trying to get laid. Typical awesome college summer.

One particular Thursday evening, we four ambled down to the local bar and drank a few pitchers and ate some hot wings. Our waitress was my friend Sarah. Strawberry blonde, blue eyes, 5'2", nice rack. We had all known her since freshman year so she stood around for awhile, shooting the breeze, whatever. About 11 or so we packed it in and headed back to our house, saying goodnight to Sarah as we headed out the door. My buddies all had to work the next day, so they headed off to bed; I worked night shift at the local hospital that summer, so I was used to being up all night. So I stayed up and watched some TV, figuring I'd fall asleep around dawn, wake up mid-afternoon, and then head to work the following night.

At about 2am, there was a frame-rattling pounding on our front door and I could hear a woman crying for someone to help her. Just as I reached the front hallway the door flew open (we never had it locked) and Sarah - our waitress - came running in. She was in boxers and a t-shirt - no shoes. She ran to me and grabbed on to me and I could feel her shaking. My buddies slowly came wandering out of their rooms, wondering what the hell was going on.

Eventually, the only sort of story we could get out of Sarah was that someone had been in her house that night. Her housemates were all gone for the summer, so she was living by herself. We told her she needed to call the police right away, but she got a really weird look and refused. She wanted us guys to go back to her house and see if anyone was there.

We armed ourselves as best we could. I grabbed my Maglite, and my buddies had baseball bats and golf clubs. We gave Sarah a pair of flip-flops and a sweatshirt and we walked the five blocks to her house. That's right, she'd run five blocks to our house barefoot. To describe her as freaked out is a bit of an understatement.

When we got to her house, her front door was standing wide open. She said she thought she'd left it that way when she'd run out. When we got into the house, at first everything seemed normal. The rooms were all tidy and clean; no dishes in the sink; no messy laundry on the floors; the windows were down and locked; the air-conditioning was running. There was no one in the house.

But then we got to Sarah's bedroom.

My first thought was literally "There was a tornado in here." Her vertical blinds were bent and twisted into each other. Her drawers were open, and clothing strewn about the room. All of her lights were on; her TV was on; her radio was on. Directly in the middle of her floor was a pile of junk, like someone had dumped a drawer on the carpeting: pens, envelopes, key-chains, junk. AND IT WAS ALL ARRANGED IN A GEOMETRICALLY PERFECT CIRCLE, about two feet in diameter.

My buddy Troy said "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Back at our house, Sarah told us what had happened. Just thinking of her story now, I've got goosebumps again.

Sarah's shift ended at 1am. She'd cleaned her station and then walked back to her house from the bar. She said she'd made sure all the doors and windows were locked, had climbed into bed, watched a little TV, and then she thought had gone to sleep about 1:45. She didn't think she slept very long.

Shortly after falling asleep, Sarah was awakened by a clicking sound. She sat up in bed when she realized the sound was her vertical blinds clicking off of each other, as if they were blowing in a breeze. Since she had just checked all the windows, this didn't seem possible. Then she realized her TV was back on, which she had just shut off. Strangely, however, there was no picture; just a blank blue screen.

Then she saw the little girl. Sarah said she looked like she was about six or seven years old. The little girl was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of Sarah's bedroom, and at first Sarah thought she was playing with a toy or something on the floor. Sarah's first reaction wasn't fear; her first thought was that this little girl was sleep-walking or something and had managed to get into the house. So she said "Honey, are you okay? Do you know where you are?"

At the sound of Sarah's voice, the little girl looked up - and she had no eyes. Sarah said she could see through two holes where the little girl's eyes should have been; she could see the room behind her. Sarah jumped up, ran out of the room, ran out the front door, ran to our house. She said she came to our house because she had seen us at the bar that night and knew we were home.

Sarah said that while at first she thought the little girl had been playing with a toy on the floor, she now thought the girl had been arranging her stuff in that circle. That perfect circle of junk on the carpet was exactly where the little girl had been sitting.

Story source.