I grew up in a rural area of New Jersey. My dad’s Aunts, Uncles and parents lived in a huge farm down the road. The farm had little barns here and there and an old farm house where two of my Great Uncles lived along with my Great Aunt. Beside the farm house my father built a smaller home where his parents lived. Well the focus of the story is on the farm house which was spooky. It rested at the end of a long drive way, out in the open. We figured the house had to be over 150 years old. As soon as you turned down the driveway and faced the house you could feel something weird. We hated looking at the attic because it definitely gave us the creeps, many times there would be bats flying around.
As I grew up I learned that everyone in my family was scared of the house.. rightly so, each had there own personal experience. For instance, one time my mother went to the farm and visited my Grandmother. She stepped outside for some air and decided to visit my Aunt next door. When she entered the farm house she did not see anyone but heard a shower running upstairs. She figured my Aunt was up there knowing that my two Uncles were at work. My mother decided to wait in the living room until my Aunt finished. half an hour went by when my mom realised that the shower was still running. My mom started to walk up the stairs calling my Aunt’s name...no response. She felt weird so rushed out of the house. She told my Grandmother that our Aunt was taking a shower. My Grandmother said that was impossible because no one was home..my Aunt had gone shopping just shortly before my mother arrived. There were numerous other experiences such as lights being on after our turning them off, washing machines go on by themselves, etc. Well that is just to give you a little flavour. The main occurrence, which today still freaks me out, is the following.
One Saturday afternoon I was hanging out in the farm house with my best friend, my sister and her best friend. No one else was in the farm house (my Grandparents were next door). In the farm house there were two huge rooms next to one another. The first room was a sewing room that had a record player in it, the second room was a parlor that was wide and empty. We were practicing the Hustle..I guess you can imagine what year it was..I was only about 10 and my sister and here friend were around 14. We kept practicing all afternoon, going from one room to the other playing the record on and off. At one point I turned the record off and walked into the second room where the three others were waiting. We practiced our steps one more time. Leaving my friends and sister behind I went into the sewing room to play the record, but it had disappeared. The record was nowhere to be found. We searched high and low and could not understand its disappearance. We all stood around looking at each other as our palms began to sweat. At that very moment, my sister’s friend said she thought her mother was going to call, a second later she did, after that we were out of there!.
10 years went by. I never forgot that incident and we never found the Hustle record. Finally it was time to sell the farm, my family was moving to Florida. One afternoon when we were cleaning out the farm house my dad started to clean out the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink and found something very weird. The Hustle record was jammed in between the wall and the cabinet in such a position where a human hand could not fit....how did that get there?