My first story is about a haunted house that my parents and sister lived in before I was born. This was sometime in the mid seventies. My family moved into a house in Costa Mesa, California. My father new the previous owner, an old woman who hung herself in the laundry room. My father wasn't worried about the fact that she had killed herself on the property. He should have been.
One day, before being fully moved in, my father and a friend of his, Roger, stopped at the house to drop off some things. My father took a drop box with 100 feet of wire coiled around it and placed it on a shelf in the laundry room. For those who don't know, a drop box is, basically, an electrical outlet box with 4 sets of outlets on it. The laundry room was once a garage and had been converted (i.e. the washing machine and dryer were now in there). My father had backed his pick up truck into the driveway to unload the back of it. He and his friend Roger were sitting in the truck talking when they heard something hit the back of the truck. My father thought it was the tailgate on the truck falling. He got out and went to the back of the truck to check it out. Sitting on the tailgate was the drop box he had previous placed on the shelf in the laundry room. Now, if this had happened to me, I would have been gone, never to return. Not my dad, though. His attitude was pretty much "whatever". So, my family moved in.
There was a den which would serve as a storage area for a shortwhile until everything was unpacked. In the den was a portrait of the old woman. This portrait made my mother very uncomfortable. When my family first moved in my mother would spend the days unpacking boxes while my dad was at work. She would go in and out of the den all day long. On several occasions she had removed the portrait of the old woman and laid it face down only to return and find the portrait back up on the wall.
Perhaps the weirdest/scariest thing to happen in the house happened to their friend Roger. Roger stayed over one night and was sleeping on the couch in the living room. When my mother woke up in the morning she found Roger sitting up, wide awake, with all of the lights on. He looked scared out of his mind. She asked him what happened. He told her that during the night he felt someone staring at him so he rolled over on the couch and saw these 2 green glowing eyes staring at him. After that, Roger seldom came to the house and when he did he would go no further than the street. He wouldn't even walk up the driveway. I can't say I blame him.
Next Story: Phantom Car?
This story takes place in New Hampshire. When I was 10 my mother and I moved to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. After we had lived there for a couple of years we found that one of our favorite things to do in the summer, when school was out, was to go on late night drives along the coast. One night, my mother, my aunt, my sister and I all went for a drive. We were driving past either Rye or Genisis beach, I can't remember. My mother was driving and my aunt was in the passengers seat. My sister and I were in the back seat. I was sitting behind my mother. We were all talking and telling jokes. After awhile I noticed that my mother kept looking in the rearview mirror every few moments. After about 10 minutes she pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. We all asked her what was wrong and why she had stopped.. She said she pulled over to let the person behind us go around because they kept riding our backend (tailgating). There was no one behind us. We all told her so. What made it even more obvious is when no one passed us. We drove home after that.
Final Story: My bedroom door
When I was around 17 I lived in Provo, Utah. No, I'm not Mormon but thanks for asking. Anyway, my mother and I were renting a small 2 bedroom house. My bedroom was the larger of the 2. This wasn't because my mom was being nice, this was because the smaller bedroom (my mom's) had the larger closet. Yeah, it didn't make sense to me either. Now, my bedroom door was kind of a pain to close. You had to lean against it to get it to close all the way. This is because the bottom edge of the door would get caught on the carpet.
So, one day, I'm sitting at my desk which was right in front of my bedroom window. My bedroom window was closed. I had my music on and my door was slightly open. The door was to my left and slightly behind me. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that the door was starting to close. I knew I was the only one home and there was no breeze or draft to cause the door to close. For some reason, which I can't remember, this didn't bother me. After a few moments I noticed that my door was not closed all the way. So, being the moron that I am, I said out loud and to no one in particular, "Please, close my door all the way.". Then I sat there and watched my door close itself all the way. This is the same door that you have to lean against to get it to close. That was about the time that I thought and said "What the f***?!!" I was out of my room and my house so fast you would have thought the house was on fire. I sat outside chain smoking until my mother came home. I didn't have any more experiences after that in that house. Well, although I do have a few more stories to share, I think I'll save those for another time.
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