I used to rent a tiny room in an old house that had been converted into shared student housing. The house wasn’t “haunted” in any obvious way—no weird history, no creepy basement stories. It was just old and drafty. One night around 2 a.m., I woke up because I felt someone sit on the edge of my bed. Not a tap, not the sheets shifting—an actual full weight, like a person lowering themselves down. I thought it was my roommate messing around, but the door was still closed, and she would never enter without knocking. I stayed completely still because I honestly thought maybe I was half-asleep and imagining things. But then… the weight shifted, like someone adjusting their position. That was the moment I fully woke up. I turned on my bedside lamp as fast as I could, and the pressure lifted instantly. Nobody was there. The room was silent. I tried to rationalize it—sleep paralysis, a dream, whatever. But here’s what still bothers me: The next morning my downstairs neighbor asked me if I’d been pacing in my room late at night. She swore she heard footsteps back and forth in my room around the same time I had the experience. And I don’t pace in my sleep. #DidThatHappen