The house next door to my parents house, seemed like any other. As a matter of fact, the two houses were built identically in floor plans, over 100 years ago. We had seen many neighbors come and go during my growing up years, people of all types, and I wonder if, like me, they knew what I believe is this house's well kept secret....
I came to live in this house when I was 26, in July of 1994. The house was left in disrepair by the previous owners, and my parents, holding the land contract were more than happy to rent it to my daughter and myself, if I would do most of the repair work on my own. This is the time, that I first became aware, of what I honestly believe is another presence in this house. I affectionately refer to this "presence" as "George"... I was late June, when I began the repair work, I began with the smaller jobs, painting, wallpaper, etc... so that these could be settling while I attend to the larger jobs. One afternoon, I was working upstairs, painting in the bedroom at the top of the stairs. My mother had come over to discuss some of my redecorating plans, after a short while, she excused herself to go back home and fix lunch. I continued painting, and then I clearly heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I believed my mother had returned, but when she didn't respond, I went to the top of the stairs, and there was no one there. I shrugged this incidence off as just the house settling, and went about my work. That same afternoon, I was working in the same room, and I distinctly heard my mother call my name. This was very loud and clear, but again, when I went to the top of the stairs, I found I was alone. I searched the house, no one was in there with me, so I went next door to ask my mother if she had wanted something. "What do you mean?" mom asked me looking puzzled. "You were just over to my house, right? I heard you call my name."
"No, I've been here all the time."
I didn't say anything further, I was afraid of what she would think. Later that night, well after dark, I cleaned up my work areas, and left the windows open to help the paint dry. As I was leaving the house, and locking the door, I heard a noise that seemed to be coming from the upstairs bedroom. It sounded like a large plank of wood that had been standing, and then fell. I was afraid I had forgotten to take care of something, so I went back inside, (turning on all the lights. It was very dark, and after the events of the day, my heart was racing!) but I found nothing anywhere in that house that could possibly have made a noise like that! The neighborhood was totally quiet, it was well after midnight!
The next day, when I unlocked the house to begin working again, I entered my daughter's room, which I had painted a dark pink. On the wall, about 4 1/2 feet above the floor, was writing that appeared to have been done with a finger, while the paint was still wet.....it was my daughter's name.....Eden! I questioned everyone in the family although I had told no one about the goings on in the house, and I knew for a fact I was the only one in the house, because I was the only one with the key. Everyone denied having been in the house. After that, we moved in.
Things had gone pretty normal, and there hadn't been anymore weird noises, so I assumed it was my imagination. Then, one night, I was sitting on the couch, my daughter's were both asleep at my feet, I heard very distinct footsteps coming down the stairs. More than once have I heard this sound, and my young daughter even heard them once when the house was all quiet and there was no explanation possible.
Another evening I can recall, the girls were again on the living room floor where they had fallen asleep. My cat "Fuzzbuster" was setting on the back of the love seat, intently staring at one specific spot on the wall. I was watching TV with the lights off, so I assumed she was seeing shadows. Fuzzbuster continued to stay fixed on the wall even after I turned on the lights, eliminating the shadows, and she would even yowl at the wall occasionally. That was the strangest yowl I had ever heard.
That same night, after I had dismissed the incident and chalked it up to a demented cat, I had gone back to watching TV, I very clearly heard the sounds of children laughing...it started soft, and then became louder and then diminished again. That freaked me totally. I have to admit though, even when the events are taking place I never feel threatened, just a little scared.
Aside from these "minor" events, I have also had things mysteriously "misplaced" and reappear, and things mysteriously disappear for good. I don't know the history of the house as far as the early history, and the events I've described have in no way left us scarred. I just assume that I have a "spirit" that lives with us and likes to occasionally remind us that he/she's still here. As long as this "spirit" remains friendly, they are welcome to stay!