My name is Kayla. I live on the South Side of Chicago. I live with my mom in a little two story house with our dogs, Tasha and Gretchen, our cats, Gibby and Daisey, guinea pig Muffin, and parrots, Spot and Pacco. The house we live in used to be my great aunt and uncle’s house, Diane and Bill. They were brother and sister.
Anyways back to the story, my uncle Bill had a heart attack by the front door one morning and died. My aunt Diane died in a nursing home when I was 2months old, so I never got to meet them. When they died, my mom fixed the house up and we moved in.
When I was two, I was sitting in my room playing while my mom was making dinner (my room is right next to the attic and kitchen). She heard me laughing and talking, so she went to see what I was doing, she said, "Kayla, who are you talking to?"
I replied, "No one," and pushed her out of the room.
She went back to making dinner and I kept talking and laughing, she went back in my room and asked again, "Who are you talking to?" and I said "Me friend."
My mom said "Who’s your friend?"
I said "His name’s Will-e-um, he from South Chicago."
When I said that my mom was shocked. I was talking to my great uncle Bill, whose real name was William, no one would ever call him William though.
My mom said when I was little we used to go to church a lot, when we would be walking up to communion I would be saying hi and waving at people, when no one would be there.
When I was about eight years old, I was laying on the couch with a bad headache. We just got back from Florida, and all the animals were at my grandmas still. My mom was in the basement doing laundry. It was probably six o’clock at night in Jan. When you’re laying on the couch you can clearly see the attic enterance, my bedroom door, and the hallway to the bathroom and my mom’s room. Anyways, I was laying on the couch and I saw this black figure come down from the attic stairs, turn and go into my room. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things and the beads hanging from my door were moving, and trust me they are heavy, it would take a person to walk into them for them to move. I would never sleep in my room when I was little. I would always feel like people were in there with me.
The one time I asked my mom if she was standing in my room at night checking on me. Another time I was sleeping in my mom’s room and I heard knocking on the wall. My mom heard it too.
Now that I’m older, whatever’s in the house with us doesn’t bother me. It bothers my mom. She’ll be in the basement doing laundry and she’ll feel something brush against her leg and nothing would be there, sometimes she says something plays with her hair and taps on her shoulder. My mom says our family has "the gift". Meaning we have the ability to see/hear/feel things that others cant. There are so many more stories about when I was little and things that happen in this house that I could write, but honestly, it would take forever. If you have any questions, feel free to email me.