I'm pretty sure I was haunted as a kid (ghost story)

Okay so, growing up I very rarely felt unsafe in my home. The night this happened was one of those rare instances. 

I woke up in a state of alarm and instinctively sat upright on my bed. Although it took my eleven year old self a while to clearly pinpoint what was causing such a state, my subconscious could instantly tell something was off. The nightlight beside my bed barely managed to illuminate the room, yet it aided in the quicker adjustment of my eyes to my surroundings. Once I could see properly though, I suddenly began to wish I couldn’t.

Normally, I'd be able to see the same old hallway with the same old bookshelf covering the same old white walls I was accustomed to, filled with the same old emptiness. However, this night- to my horror- the corridor was everything but deserted. The golden, shimmering, diaphanous figure of what I would later come to realise was some kind of catholic priest stood ominously under my door frame.

Oddly enough, the thing didn’t seem to acknowledge or notice me. I mean, if it did, it didn’t let it on at all. Still, it seemed to purposefully emanate a strange feeling of calm that soothed my nerves and drowned out the primal fear in me telling me to run, hide, to do anything besides sit there. At this point, the logical part of my brain had succumbed to the sereness that continued to wash over me. I remember it growing stronger with every passing second, making the air in the room feel sticky and heavy. Something akin to a strong, humid summer wind; the kind that steals the breath from your lungs and appears to slow down time ever so slightly. This would not have shocked me had it not happened smack in the middle of winter.

My guard was now fully down, I was defenseless and at the full mercy of whomever, whatever this entity was. I just couldn't bring myself to look away. The “Priest” was bald and he was standing up, fully hunched over and reading a book I’m assuming was an enormous, old fashioned leather-bound bible. Weird part is he wasn't moving at all. I don't remember how long I sat there staring. But I do remember waking up the next morning and having a very sore neck. That's pretty much it.

Im not religious anymore, but this experience really stuck with me for some reason. You know, in hindsight a haunting could explain things like lights flickering, my music box playing without winding it up (this happened a lot), objects moving around, doors slamming, etc. I'm not sure if this could be related as well, but the two times I stepped foot in a church as a kid I got the worst nosebleeds lol.

This is the first time I've shared this story online and I would love to hear your opinions! :)