Years ago when I was a young girl, approx. 12 years old, my family moved us from our small hometown(Wrangell, Alaska) in southeast Alaska to yet another small town, but much larger than the first. (Ketchikan, Alaska). Of course I was unhappy because I had known
nothing but my hometown and all of my little friends. I was sad and experienced my first bout of true depression during this time which lasted probably as long as it took me to find my first friend in this new town.
We moved into an old three story house on top of a huge flight of stairs
which led from down town ketchikan into a residential
area. Everyone in Ketchikan knew of the house we lived in.
It was known as the "House above the Tunnel", as it was
smack, dab right above a well known town landmark that
everyone HAD to drive through at least once or twice a day
to get to work and home.
I clearly remember climbing up onto the tunnel itself and tossing pebbles,
etc. onto the street below. (this was obviously not
allowed and often the town Police would chase hooligans
that did the same away from the area). Since I lived right
next to the area I knew all of the escapes and was able to
disappear from there rather quickly. Anyhow, this house
was well known not only because of its position above a
local landmark, but because it was over one hundred years
old and supposedly haunted.
Rumors about the house flew
rampantly over the grapevine of which at the time I knew
NOTHING about. My parents did a great job of shielding me
from such tales and were determined that I and my sister
know nothing of them.
It was the only house that the
company my father worked for could find to house his
family in on the short notice they had. They told my
Father the so called "Haunted" story which he laughed off
at the time and then accepted the house.
We would be living in the Main part of the house which consisted of
three upstairs bedrooms, a large livingroom, diningroom,
kitchen and pantry. Below us in the basement there was a
small efficiency apartment that a quiet single man rented.
I don't recall ever seeing this man once the entire time
we lived in that house. There was one bathroom in the
house which was upstairs near the bedrooms. In the
bathroom was the trap-door which led to the attic. We (my
sister and I) were told never to touch that door for our
own safety as my parents did not know the condition of the
attic that lay behind it.
The very first day we moved in to this house I had the strangest feeling that someone was
watching me. I shrugged it off as just part of the whole
moving situation that I didn't like in the first place.
When I told my father of this feeling he laughed me off
and suggested that no amount of tales I could spin would
get us moved back to our hometown, so I'd just better get
used to it.
My sister and I shared a room at the top of
the stairs. The room had closets with latches that
automatically latched when closed, so we were afraid of
them at the very start. we used the closet only to shove
toys and other kid stuff in when we were forced to clean
our room.
One evening when my sister and I were watching
television something happened that I will never forget.
We were waiting for my parents to dress and go to a company
dinner party so that we could watch a movie that was not
allowed. I was old enough to take care of my sister so I
often babysat during such outings that my parents
attended. We sat there waiting for them to leave and it
seemed to be taking an eternity. the movie we wanted to
watch had already started but I couldn't change the
channel until my parents were gone. "Nicole," I said to my
sister, "Go upstairs and tell mom and dad to hurry or they
are going to be late." My sister looked at me
strangely. "But they already left," she said "They left a
while ago!" I stared at her as if she were a fool. "No
they didn't, listen, they are still upstairs!" we listened
and could clearly hear our parents moving around in their
bedroom laughing and talking with one another. My heart
stopped in my chest as I strained to listen harder. I
CLEARLY heard my parents in the room upstairs. I stood up
from the couch and went to the window to see if the car
was in its place. The car was gone! My parents HAD left
already! I grabbed my sisters arm and we ran outside onto
the porch dressed in our night gowns. I stood there
staring up at the bedroom where the noises had clearly
been coming from. The light was burning and I could see
obvious shadow of figures moving around on the far wall of
the room. "DO YOU SEE THAT?!" I spat through clenched
teeth and the knot in my throat as I clutched my little
sisters hand tightly. "Yeah." Nicole answered and we both
began to cry. I don't remember how long we stood on that
porch, but I remember being so grateful to hear the family
car pull up in the driveway when it finally did. We ran up
to the car and both spilled the story to our parents as
they climbed out. "Kimberly!" my mother said
sharply, "Don't you dare scare your sister with your wild
imagination! now GET into the house and go to BED!" my
parents ignored my sister as she tried to explain that she
had SEEN the same thing I did and HEARD the same noises.
I'll never forget the look my sister and I gave each other
as we walked back onto the porch, glanced up at the window
and saw that where there had been a light burning all
night it was now dead DARK.
Somehow that light had turned
itself OFF, the shadows had stopped moving along the wall
and the sound of the voices had died.
Many things began to
happen after that. It was as if whatever was in the house
was determined to let me know that IT knew I KNEW it was
there. It seemed determined to scare the bejesus out of me
as often as it could. One late spring afternoon I had just
arrived home from school and ran into the house to use the
bathroom. I tossed my bookbag on the coffee table and
raced up the stairs. I stood outside the bathroom door and
beat on it. My sister was in there already doing her thing
and I had to go BAD. I listened to the water running in
the sink and her moving around in there. I begged her to
hurry up. "NICOLE, I'VE GOT TO GO!!" I yelled and beat on
the door some more. She pounded back on the door, but
didn't answer me. "DANG IT!" I cried about ready to wet my
pants. The door opened slightly as if she were playing a
game with me. I jumped up and shoved it open. The door
opened easily and slammed against the counter. I stood
there in shock as it dawned on me that no one was in the
bathroom at all. I couldn't hold it anymore so I quickly
used the toiled and raced out of the bathroom. The sink
wasn't running at all...there was no one and hadn't been
anyone in that bathroom. The door had been locked and
wouldn't open as I had turned the knob. I had CLEARLY
heard my "sister" moving about in the bathroom behind the
door. I swallowed hard as I raced out of the house. I was
alone inside and wasn't about to stay there. I found my
sister who was playing with a neighborhood friend and
asked her why she had played such a mean joke on me. In my
heart I knew damn well she hadn't been in that room. I
wanted to believe that somehow she had been. That somehow
she had gotten past me as I stood square in front of that
door. She looked at me like I was crazy and went back to
playing with her buddy.
Another day I had been alone in my
bedroom at the top of the steps when I "heard" my sister
come in the front door downstairs. I heard her laughing
and talking with her friend as they climbed the stairs
toward me. I decided to scare them and leapt into the
closet somehow forgetting that it automatically locked.
The door closed behind me and I waited for her and her
friend to round the corner into our bedroom. I would
scrape at the closet door from inside and scare the crap
out of them. I laughed to myself and waited. No one came.
No one would ever come. She hadn't even been in the house
at all. I was locked in the closet waiting for no one. I
KNOW I had heard her. She had been laughing and joking! I
heard the steps creaking as they climbed up! I pounded on
the inside of the closet door for what seemed like hours.
I cried and sobbed and scraped at the door. I knew I was
going to die in that closet. Then, after what seemed like
HOURS the door just opened. It just OPENED. I stared at the
opening and couldn't believe what I was seeing. It wasn't
possible that it had been open ALL of that time. I had
twisted and turned and beat on that latch. I had tugged
and kicked at the door several times. I WAS FULLY LOCKED
IN and knew it.
I leapt out of the closet and stumbled
down the stairs crying. I raced out of the house and to my
neighbors looking for my sister. When I finally found her
I learned that she had never been in the house all day.
she had gone straight to our neighbors and had been
playing at her place the entire time. I looked down at our
house. I could almost feel it mocking me as it stood there
waiting for me to come back inside. It was pointless to
tell my parents about it. They would only get mad at me.
What could I do? I would just have to try and ignore it.
One day came that I couldn't IGNORE. My parents both
worked so I was always at home alone with my sister. We
were latchkey kids before latchkey kids were cool. this
one day we decided to get our roller skates on and skate
around the house. A DEFINITE NO NO if my parents were home
of course, but hey, I was a kid. We got our skates on and
began to cruise around. There were these large
glass "French Doors" that blocked off a good sized
enclosed porch area. The porch area would be great for
skating as it had indoor outdoor carpet instead of the
shag in the livingroom. My sister stood up from where she
was sitting on a dining room chair and began to skate
towards the enclosed porch. "Wait" I said. "I'll come with
you." I stood up and hadn't taken a step yet when I saw my
sister suddenly "FLY" forward as if shoved HARD. Her body
lurched and she "Flew" about 6 feet across the living room
and literally through the glass french doors, shattering
both of them. I stood there in total shock as I saw her
lying in a pile of broken glass shards. I saw two very
large chunks of glass sticking out of her legs and I
immediately went into adrenaline mode. I ripped my skates
off and ran over to her. I calmed her down and moved her
out of the pile of glass. I gently took the large shards
out of her legs (which were only barely stuck in, a bit
more than superficially) and moved her to the couch. My
hands were shaking as I dialed my mothers phone number at
work. no connection. I dialed again. No connection, and
again...still, dead silence on the line. I dialed my
fathers number at work. The number would dial, but that
was all. no connection. I tried this several times. It
dawned on me that I might be panicking and not dialing
properly. I took a deep breath and focused completely on
dialing the numbers. No connections. I made my sister stay
on the couch as I ran up the stairs to my parents room to
try their phone. They had a separate phone number, a
totally different line. This had to work. I dialed the
numbers only to have dead silence on the end of the line.
I raced back down stairs and tried one more time. This
time I dialed a phone number that belonged to a schoolmate
of mine and it went through. The schoolmates mother
answered and I explained what had happened to my sister,
gave her my parents work numbers and asked her to call
them. She did and quickly my father pulled up in the
driveway. MAN, was he PISSED. He had tried to call home
after the schoolmates mother called him but the phone
wouldn't ring. To this day I wonder how I was able to
call the schoolmates mother? Luckily my sister was not
seriously injured, but she sat silently as my father
totally reamed us out and tended to her wounds.
My father
left back to work and my sister glared at me. "What are
YOU mad about, I saved your LIFE!" I complained to
her. "YOU PUSHED ME!" she screamed. "NO I DIDN'T!" Even
now, 20 years later my sister is so sure that she was
pushed from behind. She says she felt two hands shove her
HARD accross the room. I remember clearly it looking like
she was shoved as well. The thing in the house wasn't just
trying to scare me anymore. It was letting me know that
was capable of MUCH MUCH more than that.
I know that it seems as if I am rambling on and on, but just remembering
these things that happened in that house gives me a
feeling of fear and wanting to share it with someone who
might believe me.
The Rollerskates/shattered window incident was the incident that frightened me the most
because whatever it was showed clearly that it wasn't
happy with us in it's house.
A few more incidents stand out in my head which I will just jot down here.
I stood in the shower washing my hair with Prell. (I
remember it was PRELL!) and someone knocked on the
bathroom door. I was sure it was my sister so I told her
to wait while I got a towel on. the knock came
again,"KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK." Three clear raps on the
door. "Alright alright, I'm coming!" I said. I opened the
door and there was no one there. "Knock it OFF!" I yelled
at my sister and climbed back into the still running
shower. again. "KNOCK,KNOCK,KNOCK!" three sharp knocks at
the door. "Dang it!" I said and stuck my hand outside of
the shower curtain and whipped open the door. No one
there. "OK NICOLE!" I shouted. "KNOCK IT OFF!" I shut the
curtain and stood outside of the door with my towel on
quietly so my sister would think I was back in the shower.
I had my hand on the doorknob. "KNOCK,KNOCK,KNOCK!!" The
door actually vibrated with the knocks. I yanked the door
open before the final knock was even done. There was NO
ONE THERE! I turned off the shower and flew downstairs in
my towel, wrapped up in a throw blanket and waited for the
fear to subside.
We had a large mirror that was on the wall in our dining
room. When we came around the corner into the living room
you could see yourself across the room in the mirror. One
day I stood looking into the mirror and combing my hair. I
saw my father pass behind me and walk towards the stairs
that led to the bedrooms. He turned his head and looked at
me in the mirror and smiled behind me as he walked
along." "Hey dad!" I said and finished my hair. I went
upstairs after him to ask him to fix my bike and couldn't
find him anywhere. Upon asking my mother I learned that
Dad still wasn't home from his business trip, he had been
gone for two days by then. My skin crawled at the memory
of "Dad" turning his head and smiling at me in the mirror.
One evening my mom was preparing dinner in the kitchen and
she asked me to get her a can of mushroom soup from the
pantry. I opened the pantry door and stepped inside. A
sudden movement caught my eye and I SAW A MAN STAND UP
from a spot in the corner of the pantry. The MAN stared at
me and I screamed at the top of my lungs and ran from the
area. I told my mother about the man and she said it was
just my overactive imagination. (as usual) and told me to
hurry the heck up and get the soup! I opened the door with
heart pounding, grabbed the soup and tore out of there. I
COULD SWEAR I SAW THE FACE of the man reflected in the
glass on the window of the pantry door BEHIND ME!
One night the phone rang several times while everyone was
asleep except me. ( I had snuck downstairs to watch TV
when I should have been asleep ) I would answer and no one
was there. finally, the last time it rang I answered and
said nothing. accross the line came what sounded like
laughter echoing from a tin can. I slammed the phone down
and unplugged it. (and no, it didn't ring again) the hair
stood up all over my body at the sound of the laughter.It
could have been a prank call, but it never happened after
that and no one really knew us in the town to call us like
that.
Finally, (there were other things but this is getting out
of hand in length!) we learned we would be moving away to
another town in southeast Alaska called SITKA, ALASKA.
(the place where my story the Reflection and other Horrors
takes place) one day my parents were helping show the
house to prospective renters/buyers and I happened to be
in the room. The prospective renter just happened to say
to my father "OH, so THIS is the famous HAUNTED HOUSE that
everyone talks about, eh?" My father glanced at me and I
locked eyes with him. "Yeah, I guess so." was all he could
say. The man said "when the realtor told us that this was
the house, I just HAD to check it out."
Later upon questioning my parents about this they both
admitted FINALLY to me, that they had known about the
stories surrounding the house but that they had decided
NOT to say anything to us kids. (I can understand their
decision now) They didn't want to frighten us unduly
considering we had no other choice of places to live at
the time. They were afraid that our imaginations would run
away with us. I asked them what they thought about all of
the things I had told them about and they said that they
just hoped that if they ignored it the problem would go
away, and that if they made an ISSUE of it that it would
only get worse for us kids considering there wasn't any
real way to prove such things. Since we would be moving
soon my parents told me about the previous tenant moving
out due to strange happenings when she lived there. She
had sworn that her blow dryer had turned itself on on many
occasions, that writing had appeared on her mirror while
she slept and that she had seen clear apparitions
throughout the house.It got so bad that she moved out
rather quickly. She too had heard tales of the house
before moving in and didn't put much stock in them. To
this day I remember the house very clearly. I could walk
through it right now as if I were still living in it. I
went on to other places in my life where I have had
scarier than hell things happen, but this is the place
where my ability to "perceive" things began. Because of
that house I believed for a long time that I had
carried "something" with me to wherever else I went. I
don't think I did, I think that I just learned how to pick
up vibes in that house. Anyhow, thanks for listening.
Sorry the story was so long.
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