First thing you should know about this story: it’s all true. Second: I am not  particularly susceptible to suggestion. I was one of the few kids at sleepovers who couldn’t be put into a trance. I consider myself rational. I am a devout atheist. Yet I am convinced that the house I work in is occupied by an otherworldly presence.

I was told by the weekday overnight guy that there was “a ghost” in the house. Yeah, right. This guy was obviously eating too much sugar. The first night shift I worked, though, I heard it. (Her, him, them.) I heard floorboards creaking and cabinet doors slamming. I distinctly heard footsteps. The good news: I was upstairs, and all of the activity was downstairs. But so was the coffee maker. That first shift, I decided that I would just have to rely on adrenaline to keep me awake. There was no way I was going to interrupt whatever was going on down there.

People asked me “wasn’t it just the sound of the radiator banging?” People. I lived in Brooklyn for a long time. I know from the sound of banging radiators. I also know what creaking floorboards sound like. And the only loose floorboards in the house are in the hallway, right at the base of the stairs.

Last weekend I worked two overnights and didn’t hear anything new. The same banging cabinets. Some footsteps. But it wasn’t really a big deal. I had almost convinced myself that I’d made it all up. And then last night something happened. There is absolutely no way to deny it, try as I may. I heard two very distinct, very unusual sounds between 2:20 and 5:45 in the morning. They repeated on and off thoughout that whole time: I heard a large animal, grunting, rutting. And the persistent sound of dripping water.

I assumed, of course, that one of the sinks was running. There are three sinks on the second floor. But I checked them all. I checked the tub. They were all bone dry. And the toilet wasn’t running, either.

I have no idea what to make of it. But I do know that I felt very afraid.

I can only hope that who or whatever I’ll be “spending the night” with can accept me being here again. After all, I’m willing to put up with a lot for a job in this economy. But the first time I find the chairs rearranged on the dining room table, I’m hauling ass down to the job service.

Tonight the coffee maker is coming upstairs with me.