Ghost Stories

Two years ago, my four-year-old daughter and I moved in with her father. We had finally started getting along and felt that being together is what we needed. One night, I asked him if he would give my daughter a bath and put her to bed. He told me he would feel better if I did it, and I continued to tell him that she would wash herself. He just had to check on her a lot to make sure she was okay. He finally agreed. I started doing laundry. About five minutes went by, and he checked on her. She was fine. Five minutes later, as he walked to the bathroom, he asked her if she was done. I looked at him strangely, because I didn’t see her come out of the bathroom at all, and he was just standing there talking. Then the bathroom door slammed shut. I ran down the hallway, my heart pounding because of my daughter’s terrified screams. My husband, we'll call him that, attempted to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. I screamed, “Kick it down! Kick it down!” So, he did. After we got the door down, we saw my daughter in the tub covered in blood, and the water was dark red. I cried, as I pulled her out, thinking it was her blood, but there wasn’t a scratch on her. She was okay. The next day, we called a priest and got the house cleansed. Nothing has happened since.