Double Footsteps and an Opened Door

The upstairs bathroom where I was house sitting last week is a bright affair. Full of mirrors and plush towels and bath rugs. Nice tiling. It was renovated recently and I think a closet got put in around an air shaft. I left the closet door open for a few days. I do that kind of thing. Leave a closet door open and then freak out a few days later when it's still open. (Surely it must be ghosts.) As I was brushing my teeth, the last night I was there I noticed the closet door open and felt a sort of chill creep up my spine at it's ominous, gaping maw.

Naturally, I went over and closed it.
As I did the thought occurred to me, "How horrible would it be if I came in here tomorrow morning and the door's open again? Why did I have to draw my attention to it?" So I made sure it was firmly shut. My mind will do that. Take a simple, ordinary action and then go "How could this turn into a nightmare?" Dreams turn very quickly into nightmares..
When I left the bathroom I made sure the bathroom door was firmly closed behind me as well. Then I walked the four or so paces down the small hall to the bed. Onions the Cat [who's house it was] came over and settled on an overstuffed black throw pillow and rolled around turning it white. I was reading Women by Charles Bukowski and it was engaging, I was staying up later than I intended. Suddenly there was a breeze and the muffled sound of two hurried footsteps in that mini hall. Onions stood up and stared and the hall. He could see more than I could from his higher vantage point. I stayed laying down on my side, but I too was staring at the hallway I was right next to. I could only see a sliver because of my angle but there was nothing. Eventually I resume the book and Onions resumed his seat; but for the rest of the evening he would cast furtive looking glances at that little hallway and then quickly look away.

The next morning Sun was good. It showed (when I stood up finally) that there was nothing in that little hallway but two closed closets, a bolted stairwell door, and the bathroom door. The full door in one view. Seemingly closed but open just an inch.
I went in the bathroom. It was the same deal with the closet door in the bathroom. Just an inch. I brushed my teeth and got out of there. Brother Sam was downstairs and willing to clean before Onion's owner came home. The first time I stayed at this apartment I slept downstairs on the couch and heard people walking around all night. I imagine things, but I really do think something's following me. I feel it now, in this room, pressing on my chest like carbon monoxide. I'm just sleep deprived, stoned. I'm going to think about happy thought now and leave all my ghouls and goblins with you.