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PRANKISH GHOST OR OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION?
When I was eleven years old my parents and I moved into a
house in Elmhurst, IL. This was a former model home and
the elderly woman selling it had bought it new about a year
before. She was now selling as her husband had died a few
months previously of a heart attack and she was moving in
with her daughter.
The incidents described below happened within the first
year I lived there and ceased afterward. I lived in the
house for six more years before leaving after graduating
high school. Except for the last (creepiest) incident,
these are in random order:
1) The Disappearing Ruler
(Note: this was thirty-some years ago, before the common
use of calculators -- we had to use old fashioned brain
power and a ruler!) One night I was sitting in my room
doing math homework and decided to go get something to
drink. I was in the middle of a problem, and left the
ruler I was using squarely at the point I was working so I
wouldn't lose my place. A minute or so later, I came back
with my soda and sat down to continue where I left off...
my ruler was gone. I knew I had left it lying on my
homework, but I searched all around the area (floor,
drawers, under the mathbook, etc.) I concluded that I must
have taken it with me to kitchen and went back out to
search for it. No luck. Irritated with myself, I went back
to my room, and there it was sitting right where I had left
it on top of the homework! There was no way I could have
missed it.
2) The Locked Door
One afternoon, I was sitting in my bedroom listening to
music and again decided to go out to the kitchen for
something. My bedroom had a thumbturn lock on the
doorknob, but I never needed to lock my door, so never used
it. I made sure to close my door behind me, as I had my
cat in the room with me and for some unremembered reason
did not want him to get out of the room while I was gone. I
came back a few minutes later and went to open the door and
it was locked! Unless my cat had figured out a way to lock
doors, there was no way this could be. After rattling and
pounding on the door a few times I yelled out "Open this
damn door" and checked it again, still locked. I went in
the other room to get a long nail file to stick in the hole
in the doorknob to try and get it open. I returned a minute
later, and for some reason, tried the door again before
inserting the file, and it opened right up to reveal my cat
sitting on the bed calmly looking at me as if I were nuts.
3) Another Locked Door
I was required to come home for lunch everyday, since I
lived close to school. After a couple of occasions of
forgetting my keys at home at lunchtime and having to walk
half a mile to where my mother worked to pick up her keys
to get in, I learned to start hanging my keys in the back
of the top dead bolt lock, so I had would have to unlock the
door to let myself out to return to school thus remembering
to take the keys. One day I must have forgotten to relock
the dead bolt while at home and managed to forget them
dangling there, so I had to traipse down to pick up my
mom's keys. When I returned home, I unlocked the bottom
lock and still couldn't get in because the dead bolt was
still engaged. (Note: This was the kind of dead bolt that
could only be unlocked with a key, both inside and out)
Puzzled, I unlocked the dead bolt and walked in. Sure
enough, my keys were still hanging in the back of the
dead bolt. So who had turned the keys and locked the
dead bolt after I left? My father was out of town and my
mother had not been home the entire day.
4) My Creepiest Experience
Naturally this occurence took place in the basement. Our
basement was not particularly scary: half was a finished
rec room and the other half was a concrete floored laundry
room. In the back corner of the unfinished part, behind the
furnace was an alcove with a window where we had an old-
fashioned solid oak schoolteachers desk with a matching
chair. These pieces of furniture were very heavy to move
and whenever I sat at the the desk,I had to pull out the
chair which made a very distinctive shrieking scrape on the
floor. There was no other sound like it and it grated on
your eardrums like fingernails on a chalkboard.
One afternoon, I had come home from school and went down to
the basement to let the cat up. I was back in my room
doing homework and my cat was again sitting on the bed,
when all of a sudden the screeching sound of the chair
being pushed back from the desk came right up through the
floor as loud as anything. (My room was directly above this
section of the basement) I was terrified. I had already
been downstairs and knew that neither of my parents was
home and this was not a section of the country that has
earthquakes. Stupidly, I decided that I had better
investigate. I called down to the basement "Mom?" and, of
course, received no answer. So I slowly went down the
stairs and into the laundry room. (Courageous little idiot,
wasn't I?)I walked back to the furnace and peered around it
and found...Absolutely nothing. The chair was in its usual
place and nothing was disturbed. I checked the rest of the
basement and came back upstairs and locked the door behind
me. So, what did I hear?
The sound of that chair being
moved was totally unique and I could not have mistaken any
other sound for it. My cat was with me the whole time and
therefore could not have moved the chair while playing down
there. Needless to say, I never much cared for the basement
after that.
In all of these happenings, I was alone in the house. After
the desk chair incident, I never had another strange
occurence in the house. Could it have been the ghost of the
old man who had died there been playing a few pranks on me?
Or maybe it was mild poltergeist phenomenon, I was the
right age for that sort of thing. I guess each of these
stories could have a logical explanation, that's for you to
decide. All I know is that thirty-eight years later, I
still remember each one vividly, and they still give me
goose bumps when I think about them.
Thanks for reading.
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