This story is very true, Believe it or not, I don’t really care lol. I was maybe 11 or 12 I don’t really remember but it was the span of years 2017-2018. I lived near an old abandoned house that looked YEARS old. My sister and I decided to go in thinking it was empty. Oh, how we were wrong. The door to the house didn’t even close, so anyone and anything seeking shelter had access to the house. We walked in and to the right was the living room. There was a huge pile of dirt, trash, roof insulation, etc in the center, but on top sat a Bojangles box (I live in the south and I don’t know if Bojangles is a northern thing but it’s a restaurant that sells southern style fried chicken) and it looked to be brand new.
It was torn or discolored either. My sister had said there could’ve been someone here at some point very recently. To the left when you walk in the front door was the mast bedroom and in the closet there were clothes. They looked to be the clothes from the 90s because they looked VERY old. Scattered around the room were pictures. Many. Many. Pictures. It seemed an African American family lived there, but all the pictures were super old, the newest ones were only early 2000s quality. Down the hallway, there is another room with a bathroom next to it and at the back of the house to the right was the kitchen.
The kitchen was fairly large considering the house was very quaint. I took a few steps into the kitchen and I wished I had noticed the flooring was very soft, but when I took one more step I fell through the floor into the basement. I heard my sister scream but I wasn’t paying attention to her. My ankle hurt. Not broken bone but hurt. But more I just fell like 6 feet and I’m maybe 5 feet tall. The only light coming into the basement was from the hole in the ceiling/floor. I wish I could say it ended there but as I tried to find a way out I heard a laugh. It wasn’t a creepy clown laugh but more like a smoker about to hack up a lung cough. I guess my sister saw them because she screamed for me to run. Being absolutely terrified, I BOOKED it to the stairs. One of the boards cracked on the way up, causing me to almost fall down. I coined my balance and got to the top, screaming to let me out. The door was locked. The person never pursued me up the stairs or chased me, as my sister had watched them the entire time. They never moved. I got out of the basement and we left and never went back. I don’t know what the house looks like now because I’ve moved houses since then but yeah.
