Growing up in the country was freeing. There were endless possibilities and no limits for a 12 year old. The only rule was to stay out of grandma’s study. She had died a while before this rule was established. To my pre-teen self this didn’t seem ominous just a method of mourning and nothing more. The door would always be locked with a note reading “grandma’s study: stay out.” As kids you just do what you’re told no questions asked. After years and years of that same door being closed one early fall morning, the door stood wide open. The only people awake were my cousin, Valerie, and I. We were pulling an all-nighter and had heard no noise prior to the door opening. We were baffled on how the door had opened by itself so we just left it be. As we were walking to the living room we heard a creak of a door opening slowly. Rushing back we spotted a tall dark figure dash past the door frame. After seeing this we ran to our bedroom and tried to forget about everything. The next morning the door was shut and locked. Valerie never speaks of it maybe she doesn’t remember or maybe she wants to forget. Me on the other hand; that night is always in the back of my mind. What was that figure? Was it my grandmother’s spirit or something far more sinister. To this day the door is always locked.