The Pale Angry Face

I was 15 when it happened. My family and I were going through a rough time. My brother had begun anger management issues, taken from my father. My mother, father and brother fought all the time, and I was left in tears through all of this.
After the whole summer of dealing with this, I moved in with my aunt in the city, where I felt peace of mind.
I couldn’t have been living there for more then two weeks before I started feeling something touching my arm at night. Sometimes, I could hear humming, and I just thought it was my aunt, who likes to sing.
After a month of this, things started getting worse. I could feel something pushing me, and pulling my hair, like a little boy fighting his sister. It didn’t hurt to much, until one day, it pulled so hard a chunk of my hair came out, and I had to get it cut short so it would not be as noticeable.
As all this happened, I never thought to tell my aunt. She was being nice enough to let me stay with her during this time, and I can’t just complain.
But the final straw came around thanksgiving.
I was laying in bed, and in must have been 11:30. My aunt was still awake, watching TV in her room. I had on my iPod, and humming along. Suddenly, something pulled the earphones out of my ear, and I opened my eyes, and a man was leaning on me. He didn’t look like he wanted to harm me. He actually looked like he was just wanting me to pay attention to something.
He disappeared moments later. I was shaking, but not at all scared. I just needed air. I opened up my drapes, and a boy was standing at the window. Unlike the other entity, he looked menacing, like he was going to hurt me. I ran out, but not without feeling a sharp pain behind my knees. I went to my aunts room, and told her about what happened. She said that nothing that extreme never happened, and that only the man she had seen. Then she noticed that the backs of my legs were bleeding.
I was taken to the emergency room, were I got 10 stitches in each leg from how deep these cuts were. While waiting, It came to mind that the man was trying to protect me. He wanted me to pay attention to him, and get out of the room before the boy could hurt me.
My aunt and I moved out a few days later, and moved into a nice apartment a couple blocks away.
Now, 10 years later, I decided to take a look into this. It bothered me for the whole time away about what happened. While looking into old newspapers and books, I found that the old man had died in 1905 of pneumonia, but there was nothing on the boy. To this day, I still wonder who he was. Many ideas have sprung to mind, but nothing has been rational. But to this day, I still dream about him. The evil grin on his bloody face, and the bloody head in his hand.