10 Scary TRUE Home Alone Stories

I was the only one home one Saturday night. I was sound asleep in my bed when I woke up and heard Siri on my phone talking. I turned it off, figuring it was just a glitch, and went back to sleep.

An hour later, Siri woke me up again. I was a little freaked out now; Siri was responding to a strange sentence: "What that found for us. " Siri's response was, "The answer is Thursday, July 4th, 1776.

" It was freaky as hell, but I still ended up dismissing it as a glitch. One more time, I woke up to Siri speaking. This time, the sentence that Siri was replying to was my full name, and her response was, "Here's the info for my name.

" At that point, I ran to my parents' room, locked the door, and slept in there. I still have doubts about whether it was really just a glitch. I was home alone, playing computer games at like 2:00 in the morning, when a knock came at my window.

My head shot around to face the window, but there wasn't anyone there. It was winter, so I had my window shut, and my room was on the first floor. I guess you can call me the unconfrontational gamer type, so all I did was just shut my blinds to let the pranksters know that I wasn't interested.

Enough time passed where I was able to forget about the knocking and get back into my game until another steady set of knocks came at the window. I was so uneasy now. Why were they doing this?

Why couldn't they just leave me alone? But by the slim chance that they actually needed something, I lifted the blinds and pulled open my window just a crack. That was the biggest and most foolish mistake I’d ever made.

Two hands from the darkness outside grabbed the bottom of the window and pushed it all the way up. I started screaming, throwing non-stop punches at the hooded man dressed in all black trying to enter my room. I grabbed the lamp sitting on my desk and bashed him in the head with it.

He fell back outside, giving me the chance to shut my window. I saw him run away off our property into the darkness. I have never had a more horrifying experience.

I lived way out in the country—like, the turn-off-the-paved-road kind of country. I heard something crash on the roof and then smash into our metal chimney. For the next hour or so, I could hear it banging from inside the chimney, which should have been impossible since we had covered it for the summer.

Then the front door started rattling as if someone was pulling on it, trying to get inside. I peered through the peephole but couldn't see anything. I finally threw open the door, and then everything stopped and went quiet.

I was home alone one day in the summer. I was doing the usual watching of movies in the living room when I heard some shuffling noises coming from above me. Our living room ceiling is super high, so the attic is the only room above it.

I lowered the TV down a little so I could better hear the shuffling noises coming from up there. The attic was connected to my brother's bedroom through his closet. I went to his closet and opened the attic door.

The light in there was broken, so I had to use a flashlight. I only made it about two steps in before I heard the sound of the weak wooden floors across the attic creaking and then the sound of something brushing up against one of the plastic bags on the floor. I jumped out of the attic, slamming the door shut and calling my parents.

My dad had a look in there when he got home, but he didn't find anything. I'm just happy it's not my room that's connected to the attic. My dog, Leila, and I were home alone.

I had the music turned up loud in my room, and yet I was still able to hear Leila barking like crazy at something. As I was leaving my room and walking downstairs, I heard Leila stomping down the basement stairs, still barking. I followed her, turning the basement light on.

She was in an attack stance, barking at the closed door to the boiler room. I knocked on the door, asking if anyone was in there. Leila was going crazy at this point, jumping on the door, scratching it, basically trying to break it down.

I decided that if something was really in there, I didn't want to see what it was. I dragged Leila by the collar all the way back upstairs and locked the basement door. When my dad got home, I made him check the boiler room, but on his way there, he saw that there was a ladder placed on the wall by the basement window, and the window had been smashed open.

My dad called the police, sounding worried, but I didn't yet know what was going on. It turned out Leila was barking at an intruder, and that I should consider myself lucky that I didn't open that door. It was very common for me to be home alone at night, as I only lived with my dad, and his shifts would constantly shift from days to nights.

This happened around the time my dad was doing night shifts. I would stay up really late on these nights watching movies. It's always taken me a long time to fall asleep, so after turning off the TV to go to sleep, I probably laid there for a good half hour.

Then, I heard a toy fall over in my toy closet. It was nothing too suspicious, but it still creeped me out. But then the door knob to my closet.

. . I started to wiggle until, finally unlocking the door, I hid under my covers, not making a sound.

It was strangely quiet for a good two minutes, so I finally peeked my head out of the covers. There was a figure standing next to my bed, looking down at me. I screamed at the top of my lungs and began hugging the wall behind me.

The figure looked out the window and then just walked away out of the room. I stayed in that position for about an hour before checking if he was really gone. The front door was left wide open, so it seemed he had left.

I didn't get a minute of sleep that night. This story is from the point of view of a 16-year-old girl. I used to have a boy living next door to me who was obsessed with me; his name was Joey.

Every time I would go outside, Joey would come outside as well, as if he were watching me through his windows, waiting for me. He was 17 and very weird, and he didn't seem to have any friends, as he was always home. I tried to give every sign possible that I didn't like this guy, but he wouldn't get the message.

So, I finally just told him one day that I didn't like him and to leave me alone. The look on his face that day is something that won't leave me. It was the kind of angry look a toddler gives their parents when they can't have a toy—coming from a 17-year-old, that's much more disturbing.

One night, my parents left me to watch the house. I was working on a school project when I felt my bed shift a little bit. I looked under my bed and screamed as I saw Joey lying under my bed.

I ran away while he tried to crawl out from under my bed. I ran to his house and rang the bell at least ten times, telling his parents about it. When they opened the door, Joey never came out of my house, so I called the police.

His parents begged me not to, but I ignored them. The police found him still in my room and arrested him. Apparently, he admitted this wasn't the first time he had hidden under my bed.

They also found pictures of me scattered across his room; the most disturbing one was of me sleeping, and it was taken from inside my room. I live in the country, and more often than not, I was home alone. We don't have any neighbors close by, so I would usually just sit in the yard and tan on sunny days.

There was this one time that the sun was out strong, and I was tanning in our yard when I saw somebody standing in the woods, watching me. I sat up in a position ready to get up and run. "Uh, do you need something?

" I yelled. The guy walked out from the woods and over to me, telling me that he lived up the hill and was wondering if I could help him out with a broken water pump. I told him that I was about to head out and that I didn't have time.

It was a lie, of course, but there was no way I was going with him. He walked off back into the woods until passing a boulder, and I couldn't see him anymore. I was more creeped out than I had ever been in my life, so with that, I folded my lounge chair up and went inside, being sure to lock all the doors and windows.

You would think it ended there, but it didn't. About an hour later, I realized I had forgotten my sunglasses outside in the grass, so I went back out to get them. I made sure the guy wasn't anywhere in sight before going out there.

It took me a little while to finally find my sunglasses, and as I feared, when I looked up, I saw the guy again. This time, though, he wasn't in the woods; he was kind of hiding behind our shed so that only half of his body was visible. I yelled that I was calling the cops and ran back inside to do just that.

The cops came and took down my description of the guy; fortunately, I've never seen him since. This happened to me when I was really little—I was seven years old—but I still remember all of it like it happened yesterday. I was sleeping over at my grandma's house, like I always did when I was little.

She never drove her whole life for some reason, so she would constantly be taking long walks everywhere. One day, when I was sleeping over, she wanted to walk all the way to the library, which was like ten blocks away. I didn't want to take that walk; I was a lazy kid.

So she went off and told me not to answer the door to anyone. My grandma was the kind of person that was strict, and she didn't baby people, so it wasn't unusual for her to leave me by myself at such a young age. Sometime while I was alone, the phone rang.

Being a dumb and curious little boy, I answered it. It was a man on the other end. I remember he said, "Who is this?

" I said, "Danny. " "Are your parents home, Danny? " I said, "No.

" "So, you're home alone right now, Danny? " I said, "Yes. " "Where are you at right now, Danny?

Do you know the address? " "Uh, somewhere in Queens," I told him. "All right, Danny, bye-bye now.

" He hung up. I don't even remember thinking twice about it, but the story didn't end there, unfortunately. I'd say almost an hour later, a knock came at the door.

I remembered what my grandma said, so. . .

I remained on the couch. I see you on the couch, Danny. My little heart sank.

I noticed him through the window; he was on the porch, staring at me. He was a very creepy-looking man, all gray, ugly, and with a fat beard gut. I told him to go away; I got some candy in my truck.

"Come on out, Danny! " I ran to the guest bedroom that I slept in and locked the door. Moments later, I heard the back door being fiddled with, followed by banging and thumping as he tried to break down the door.

By some miracle, I heard the loud voice of my grandmother as she yelled at him to get the hell out of the yard and that she was calling the cops. I watched through the window as the guy took off in his ratty pickup truck while my grandma tried to get the plate number. Unfortunately, she didn't remember it, but she still reported him and his vehicle to the cops.

My mom never trusted my grandma to watch me again after that, but I still know that if she had arrived even ten minutes later, God only knows what would have happened to me. I recently moved out, and I already have a horror story to tell. The house I moved into isn't anything impressive; it's just a house that's appropriate for one or two people.

But I'd say right away I started hearing weird sounds coming from inside the walls. I first heard it in the kitchen and then in the bathroom, but on night three, I started hearing it in my bedroom. I was sure there was some kind of animal living in my walls.

I just had to figure out how to get rid of it. The next morning, I didn't even have enough milk to fill the bowl of cereal. I couldn't believe I hadn't realized I needed more milk.

In fact, I seemed to be eating up all of my food pretty fast. I woke up in the middle of that night to the sound of breathing—not my breathing. It sounded just like the breathing of a person.

I flipped the lamp on, and it stopped. I chalked it up to my mind playing tricks on me. After waking up, the next day was really hot, so I turned on the AC for the first time.

I checked every single vent, and some of them weren't blowing any air, one of them being the vent right next to my bed. I peered through the vent with a flashlight; there wasn't even a duct behind the vent—it was just the inside of the wall. It seemed that whatever air duct was in there had been removed.

Unfortunately, I didn't look into the air conditioning system while buying the house, so I didn't know about this. That night, I had to sleep in the heat with no AC, so I was up pretty late, constantly rolling around and flipping the pillow over. Then I eventually started to hear the breathing again, but this time I was fully awake.

I knew it was real this time; it was coming from my left. I looked to my left at the air vents; the sound was surely coming from in there. I grabbed the flashlight again and shined it through the vent.

I dropped it and screamed—there was someone's face peering through the cracks of the vents. The first thing I saw were their eyes, open wide and glowing. I screamed all the way down and out of the house.

I soon found out there was a crazy, dangerous homeless man living in my walls, and he had been eating my food ever since I moved in.