When I was a child, I had a small wooden rocking chair in my room. I don’t remember ever actually using the thing, but my parents decided it was a good enough decoration to have when we moved to our new house. I remember feeling strange in this new house at night. The feeling of being watched was pretty present, too.
Well, a few years after moving into this house, I had been sitting up on my bed reading when, out of nowhere, music started playing. I looked over to see this little wooden rocking chair rocking—apparently, it had a music box in the back of it I never knew about. I ran out of the room to my parents screaming, who laughed at me and told me, “You must have hit it playing around.” Except I know I was on the bed the whole time… and the thing started moving by itself.
