The Cat and The Closet

A First Apartment Freakout


Date | 2011
Location | Windsor, Ontario, Canada


The story I’m going to share isn’t one that I talk about often because it makes me sound crazy. But, I think about it a lot, even now, 12 years later.

It was 2011. I was 21 and had just moved back to my hometown from the east coast because my grandmother’s health was rapidly declining. I found a cute bachelor apartment downtown in a really old building and was so proud of it because it was my first time living without roommates. I had a cat, named Plato, and together we were a happy little family. Although the apartment was small, there was a lot of storage space in the form of a massive walk-in closet that was half the length of the apartment. It had two doors, for some reason, a big one and an adjacent smaller one, so essentially you could walk through the closet to the bathroom or back into the living area.

Where I slept was almost directly next to the smaller door. I always kept it open because that’s where I put the litter tray for Plato. I only had a couch to sleep on at first and the cat liked to sleep on the back of it. One morning, soon after I had moved in, I was laying down nursing a hangover and reading. Plato was asleep on the back of the couch and I remember thinking how peaceful it was having a place to myself, free of noisy roommates.

All of a sudden, the cat jumped up and started hissing at the closet door. I jerked up too because Plato was the chillest cat I’d ever known and I had never heard him hiss before. He was looking into the closet and backing away slowly, the fur on his back was raised and he started making a low moaning sound. I grabbed him on instinct, to calm him down. At this point, I was standing, with a stressed out cat in my arms, staring at an empty closet. I put Plato down and investigated, but I didn’t see anything. Being the child of a hippy, I lit some Nagchampa incense, put it in the closet, and texted my sister about what had just happened. After that, Plato would alternate between being completely fine with the closet and hissing at it or avoiding it.

cat and the closet (Plato)

At the time, I was interested in the paranormal, but in a passive and skeptical way. I thought what had happened was strange, but I essentially just kept living my life.

Another night, my on and off-again ex was in town. For some reason, completely unprompted, they walked into the closet and stood there. I just watched, thinking, maybe don’t do that? Then, they turned around and said, “there’s something in here…it just touched my hand.”

I got chills..but, then we went out drinking and again, I kind of just had to live with that information.

After that, my grandmother was hospitalized for the last time. My entire family was rallying around her, to the point where I couldn’t work because I was going to the hospital so often. She truly was the glue that held us together and we wanted to show her how much we loved her while she slowly faded from this plane. My family is Catholic, but my mother mostly raised us as new-age Buddhists, with hints of Catholic ideologies and traditions.

One night, after spending the day with my grandmother, I decided to pray for her. I had recently gotten a rosary from a relative, so I laid down on the couch, closed my eyes, and said a prayer on each bead. It was mediative and peaceful, and I felt connected to her as I did my best to send her love from afar.

Then, the energy changed. I felt like I had almost left my body or was in a trance. I was aware of my surroundings and could feel my body breathing, but I couldn’t move.

My attention was abruptly shifted to the closet.

I could sense something on the ground moving towards me from the smaller entrance. I was afraid, I could feel my heart beat against my chest, and I wanted to get up. But I still couldn’t move, to the point where I felt the hand that held the rosary slowly slip down to my side because I could no longer hold it up.

Whatever it was, was now climbing up the couch and almost slithering onto my body. I could feel its weight crushing me, primarily on my left side. Now, I was fighting, trying to get even a single twitch of movement from my body. The entity spoke to me, almost in a whisper, but more like a hiss. It said, “I’m going…to hurt you.” As it spoke, it felt like it was pushing my face to the side and I felt my head turn a bit to the right.

I thought, “nah, fuck that” and I fought with every fibre of my being to come back to myself. I was as if I was in a battle for my life and what probably lasted seconds, felt like minutes, but I did it. My energy was in fight mode, but when I came back to my body, it took me a long time to be able to open my eyes and move my hands. When I did, my head was turned to the right and my hand still held the rosary at my side.

Once I was fully cognitive, I called my mother.

I felt crazy but, if anyone was going to understand, it would be her. She drove 45 minutes from her house in the county to comfort me that night. She brought sage and singing bowls and stayed with me until I felt safe again.

Nothing happened after that, but I moved a couple months later.

After reflecting on this experience, I would definitely say the entity had a feminine energy. I don’t know how to describe what I mean by that, but someone did tell me, while discussing the history of that building, that it used to be a nunnery for the church across the street. I have no idea if that’s true, but whatever it was did not have great vibes.

I recently discovered your podcast and have powered through a lot of your older episodes already. It’s still cold and grey where I am in Northern Ontario (Canada), so it’s been a great way to stay entertained. Thanks for all you guys do!

Thanks for letting me share this!

p.s. the photo I sent was the only one I had of the closet. You can only see the bigger door and my cat looks spooked but he was just staring at some birds haha.

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