A cold chill swept over me and every hair on my head stood on end. Nobody was there!
Throwing the scrapbook I charged; half falling; down the stairs, then ran through the living room and dining room to find Ann still in the kitchen where I’d left her.
Breathless I told her what had happened. She chuckled and said that I "looked like I'd seen a ghost."
I had a pretty good idea she didn't believe me. Shoot, I wasn't sure I believed it either. Yet, I knew a presence of some kind had walked up behind me. But what it was I didn't know and why it was I didn't know. All I know is that for a brief moment I seemed to have been caught up into some other time and place with an unknown and unseen presence that couldn’t have scared me more if it had been Norman Bate’s mother standing behind me with a butcher knife. Even unseen it was more real. But then when you stop to think about it Norman Bates'mother was never real to begin with.
Afterward

The Beginning