Well, it’s not about my child, it’s about an experience that happened to me. My parents told me the story later.

We moved to London when I was about to start middle school. We ended up renting a flat in Wimbledon and when we were moving in, I pointed to a portrait of a woman who was above a fireplace and said, “Who is that?”

The caretaker who was passing by at the time replied, “Oh that?” he said, “That’s our resident ghost.”

We all laughed it off thinking that he was kidding. It wasn’t until later that we realized that he may have been serious.

I don’t remember where my brother and my mom went that night, but it was just me and my Dad hanging out. I had shut my bedroom door to take a shower and then write in my journal as I did every night on my bed. My Dad came in to check on me and started knocking and shaking the door.

“Open the door,” He said.

“It’s not locked” I said.

I heard him continue to rustle the door and he kept getting frustrated, “Open the door, I told you not to lock the doors.”

Finally, I said, “It’s not locked!” and went to the door and verified that it was indeed not locked. I turned the door knob back and forth and said, “See, I told you it’s not locked!”

Suddenly it got really quiet behind the door. A few moments passed and then the door slowly opened. My Dad went past me and checked my closet and the bathroom, clearly something wrong.

The next day, my Dad took the locks off all of the doors. I never asked why he did that and he never told me. I think he wanted to protect me. It wasn’t until I was in college that I asked about that night and my Dad told me that there were locks on the outside of my door and they had ...