The Me Who Keeps Going Around

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This is the scariest story I’ve ever heard.

I was still so little that I have no memory of it. I may have been around 5, kindergarten age.

Apparently, every day, for some reason, at the exact same time in the evening, I would repeatedly walk around and around the table in the living room.

Then, after going around for about five minutes, I would suddenly burst into tears and collapse onto the floor.

Once I collapsed, I would sleep like a log.

My parents took me to a doctor, wondering if it might be epilepsy or something, but my strange behaviour wouldn’t stop. 

They couldn’t figure out what was causing it.

What was even stranger was that little me seemed to have no memory of anything that was happening during this “going around → bursting into tears → falling sound asleep” cycle. 

If they asked me why I was going around, I wouldn’t answer, and if they tried to pick me up and stop me in the middle of it, I would completely freak out. (I once even bit my own mouth hard enough to make it bleed.) 

 So there was really nothing they could do.

However, I never did it anywhere except at home, so my parents managed to get through it by taking me outside around that time every day.

But my little brother (still a baby)  was also around, and it was right around the time when my mum had to start preparing dinner, so it was pretty exhausting for her.

It scared her because none of it made any sense.

Then, just when Mum was starting to become a little neurotic from the stress, she suddenly came up with an idea:

Why not just move the living-room table?

I burst out laughing when I got to this part of the story, but Mum was dead serious.

So she immediately moved the table, which had been sitting in the middle of the room, and pushed it up against the wall.

It made for a pretty weird-looking room, but for the time being, she decided to see what would happen.

That evening, Mum nervously watched me as the usual time came.

But I made no sign of going around!

Mum was so relieved that she got up to call Dad to tell him the good news. 

But then, for some reason, she happened to glance out the big window in the living room toward the garden.

(The living room opened onto the garden, with a sort of traditional veranda running along the outside.)

There was a big tree in the garden.

And underneath it, to her shock….

THERE WAS ME!

That other me was standing under the tree, facing the living room, and apparently, their eyes met.

Mom gasped, and right at the same time, the “me” under the tree started walking around and around the tree.

Then Mum thought, Wait… then who’s the one standing next to me?

She looked over and I was still right there.

The me standing next to her was also watching the “me” under the tree.

And this me by her side looked calm like nothing special was happening. 

As Mum stood frozen in place, thinking, “What the hell? What is this?” the me standing beside her said:

“Mum, you probably shouldn’t look,”

And calmly closed the curtains over the window.

I didn’t look frightened at all and just went about it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Mum was still staring at me, completely unable to process what was happening, when my baby brother suddenly started crying.

That finally snapped her back to reality.

Feeling terrified all of a sudden, Mum grabbed me and my baby brother and ran straight to a friend’s house nearby.

She stayed there trembling until Dad came home.

Form then on until we moved out, the table stayed pushed up against the wall.

Some days later, Dad would also see the “me going around the tree.”

He saw it on a night when there was a thunderstorm, and at nighttime, too.

He was absolutely terrified, but he told me he just closed the curtains like I did. LOL.

There were other strange things appearing in that house besides the other me, so Dad said maybe there was just something wrong with the house.

It was a strange house with a bizarre layout, and there was even one room that nobody ever wanted to go into.

It was company housing, so we moved out not long afterward.

That’s why I barely remember anything about that house myself.

When I first heard this story, it scared the hell out of me because it felt like the little girl in the story wasn’t really me ~.