This is a story about a house I used to live in until I was about 5
years old.
It was a two family
house with my aunt, uncle, and cousins upstairs, with our family (dad, mom and
us four kids)
downstairs. Several occurrences happened while we lived there as well as
numerous freaky
things since then. Some of which I have witnessed, all of which I truly believe.
My first strange recollection was of my cousin and I being about 5 and playing
that "pokeno"
bingo game with cards in their living room upstairs. Now from the upstairs
living room, if you
looked straight ahead, you would sees a window, with storage built in cabinets
to the right and
the entrance to the attic on the left (you couldn't' see it from straight on -
but it is on the left).
The stairs had a slight curve to them - going up the curved to the left before
you hit the top
which was my aunt's front door. While my cousin and I were playing, my parents
as well as hers
came barreling up the stairs, my uncle being the last - he had a baseball bat in
his hand. They
all went up into the attic and several minutes later came back down and never
said a thing to
my cousin and I who at the time thought this a bit odd. I would later find out
that my aunt had
heard odd noises above her while she was in the kitchen - like furniture being
moved. After
investigating they found nothing (my mother telling me this years after ther
fact) and they came
back down.
One of my cousins (her room was above mine and my sister's) would have recurring
nightmares
about a man coming out of her closet and standing at the foot of her bed. Night
after night we
heard her screaming and my aunt and uncle always running in to comfort her.
After seeing a
psychiatrist or two, it was deemed that she was indeed a normal, sane child with
no explanations
of these episodes.
My brother and I went into the basement one day were pretty freaked out. (the
basement had
two sections, a smaller room off of the main one had a pool table and a fridge
and what he
called the boogie man chair). Well, one afternoon we were in the smaller room
when the pool
balls started to roll around by themselves and then click together. Now, I was
young at the time
however I knew the difference between balls rolling in one direction due to a
crooked table and
something else. These clicked together time and time again right in front of
us. To this day he
will look at me and say "click, click, click" and I know exactly what he means
and the hair still
stands up on my neck.
In later years the cousin who had experienced those "nightmares" had moved out
as we all
eventually did. As it turned out her ex-boyfriend had bought the house from my
aunt and uncle
- little did he know what he was in for. He could not rent that upstairs
apartment as people "just
didn't like something about it". A friend of mine from work had actually looked
at it and was
telling me about her apartment hunting and by her explanation of the layout as
well as "feeling
kind of odd and spooked out in the big front bedroom" I asked her the address -
lo and
behold it was the house. She passed on that rental.
My mother had called me one day out of the blue and said - hey thought you'd
find this
interesting Bob (not his real name!) had finally rented out the upstairs and got
a call from the
new tenants - they had been there about 10 days and had left all of their
belongings there -
turns out whoever had that front bedroom would swear that a small man was coming
out of the
closet and standing at the end of the bed.
In later years, Bob would encounter all sorts of things - a broom stick flying
across the
basement right behind him, small cut-outs in the shades in the house - small
footprints on one
of those lights with a small round table attached to it, as well as that jinxed
apartment. He
even had one coworker ask he what the hell he was working on in the attic - he
had driven by
and the whole place looked like it was lit with a million bulbs. Bob found this
funny as there was
no electricity in the attic and there was no one in the house at the time.
Bob has since sold the house and it has fallen in to quite a state of disrepair.
Two of the last
things I found out about the house were this: my two cousins had seen a
"psychic sort" and she
said (with out having ever met them and before hearing anything from them) that
she knew one
of my cousins had a rough time in that house - "it was that little man, wasn't
it"? she had said.
She told my cousins that he had been murdered there and was obviously not
willing to leave.
The second tidbit was that when my aunt and uncle had bought the house they had
found a cot,
a bottle of holy water and a bible up in the attic.
click, click, click.
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