(This is not a true story and I think I'm going to start writing fiction experiences and true ones)

My brother Micheal was a full on skeptic when it came to paranormal. He didn't believe that spirits walked among us. I on the other hand believe whole-heartedly. I had seen and felt them, how could I not believe. I would show my brother paranormal cases or tell him my personal experiences but he never believed me. Until the day we moved. My mother decided that it was time for a new start. So we moved from Sacramento, California to Oklahoma City. Thankfully I am home schooled so I never had to worry about if I fit in at school or not. We moved to a rather old house in the middle of the country. One day I had finished school early and I sat in my room when I heard my brother yell my name. He bursts through my door looking angry as hell. "Yes?" I asked.
"Why the fuck would you carve a
Pentagram in the wood?" I looked at him weirdly and asked him what he was talking about. He proceeded to scream at me to stop being stupid and admit it. I asked him to show me and he lead me to his room where above the bed was a pentagram carved into the wood. I asked him if it was there when we moved and he insisted that it wasn't. I believed him. I sudden felt a presence behind me and saw my brothers face go pale. He pointed behind me and it was in that moment I heard a deep growl and a "Hello"