It is common for large pieces of land set out in
the middle of nowhere to be deemed mysterious or haunted.
I have had the pleasure of living on a 16 acre farm,
surrounded by trees since I was four years old (I am
currently 19 and still living there). There are a total of
four houses that stand on this property. On one side of
the ¼ mile residential driveway which leads from the main
road stands two houses, owned by our estranged neighbors
(each only have about one acre of land). On the opposite
side, consisting of horse pastures, woods, and gardens,
stands my grandparents' house (the main house) and my
parents' house (the farm house).
Let me give you a little bit of history so that
perhaps some of the experiences I share with you will make
more sense.
The property belonged to my grandfather's
mother who resided in the farm house for most of her life.
My grandfather built the main house after returning from
the service and soon brought his wife, my grandmother to
live with him. My grandmother told me stories about the
previous neighbors (back then there were several houses
surrounding the property) misfortunes with unexplained
fires that ruined their homes, never to be rebuilt. Most
who lived around here moved away, including my
grandfather's mother. My grandmother also mentioned a
mentally ill woman who hung herself one day while her
daughter was in school. There is also a hospital for the
criminally insane a few miles down the road, which also
gives me a small case of the chills.
As time passed on, my grandparents had two
daughters, my mother and my aunt, Donna. During this time
they rented out the farm house to several different
families, each of which did not remain for long. The house
is actually a pretty good size, but was gutted many times
before it was made into two separate apartments (this would
not be until much later). One lady by the name of Mrs. Cass
lived in the house for some odd years before she died of a
heart attack around her fifties. She was rumored to have
passed away in what is now our current living room.
Another couple moved in some time later but their
stay would be harshly interrupted. My grandmother said
that the married couple often argued and the husband was
suspected of cheating. Well, one morning after a horrific
night of screaming, which was not uncommon by now, my
grandfather decided to check the furnace in the basement of
the farm house. The farm house has two separate entrances,
each on either side of the house. Well, as he rounded the
corner where the kitchen door stood, he noticed a torn
nightgown speckled with blood lying on the steps. No one
was home at the time so he rushed next door to call the
proper authorities. In the end, the couple was suspected
to have fled (at least that's what a relative said) and all
their belongings were taken from the house by a close
relative and they were never heard from again. I believe
there is a distinct possibility that the wife was either
beaten terribly or murdered in that house and the cowardly
husband simply went into hiding.
Now that these pieces of information are out of the
way, I would like to begin sharing some ghostly experiences
that I and my aunt Donna have experienced in this very
house. Around the 1980s, Donna moved into the farm house
with a roommate whose name I cannot recall, so I will just
call her Emily. At this point, the house was still a whole
so they had access to every room. Donna recalls one night
in particular when they were both in the living room
watching something on TV when Emily got up to put some
popcorn into the microwave. The small kitchen is connected
to the living room so Donna witnessed every single action
that followed. Upon the cabinet that held the microwave
stood two glass swans that belonged to Donna, undisturbed.
For some reason, I am guessing that this particular specter
did not like Emily, one of the swans lifted from its spot,
floated in mid-air for a few seconds and then crashed at
Emily's very feet.
On a separate occasion, Donna was lying in bed one
night about to drift off to sleep when Emily came bursting
into her room, screaming about a dark shadow blocking out
the bathroom entry as she entered the hallway. Emily
climbed into bed with Donna, too scared to venture back to
her room in fear of being "attacked" once again.
A year or so later, Emily moved out leaving Donna
in the house alone. One night while Donna was taking a
bath with her curious cats lined up outside the tub, as
most cats do, she heard the front door open downstairs.
Now, I'm not sure of the condition of the door back then,
but during the time I have lived in that house you KNOW
when that door is being opened. First of all, it has the
stereotypical creaking as it swings open and since it is
such a heavy door, it drags loudly across the carpet.
Also, the lock is not very sturdy as well as the doorknob
so you literally have to slam the door in order to close
it. Well, she guessed that it was her boyfriend so she
called out, "We're all upstairs!" This phrase, she
believes is what saved her life from a living or dead
being, because the door opened and closed once more as if
someone was leaving. After her bath was over, she crept
downstairs to find the house empty. By saying "we're" all
upstairs she guessed that who or whatever came into the
house was scared off by the number of "people" in the house
when really it was just her and the cats.
Fast forwarding to the years my parents' and I have
resided here, when we first moved in, the house was split
up into two apartments until we knocked down the wall and
made it into our own house. This is where I will give a
better lay out of the house so you can picture it. The
front door (the main door we use) opens up into a small
living room. To the left is a disgustingly small kitchen
entered by an archway which we really do not use anymore.
To the right are the stairs leading up the second floor and
also to the other side of the house (the wall used to be
where the other steps into the other side of the house
currently stand). By passing the stairs on your left you
enter into another small living room that we use for the
computer. Straight ahead is a door that leads into an
eerie, narrow hallway. Once you enter this hallway, there
is a small bathroom on the left that we also do not use.
Another door on the left leads to an old bedroom that is
used for storage, until you reach the end where the small
dining room stands to the left, and the large kitchen with
the "back door" is on your right. Going back to the stairs
that lead up, when you reach the top my parents room is
directly to the left. If you turn right, you see the
bathroom dead ahead and my bedroom is the door on the right.
I hope you absorbed all of that, because here we go
with story number one.
When I was about 12-13 years old, I
was sitting in my room talking with a friend of mine on the
phone one evening, my loyal black lab sitting on the end of
my bed. My parents were gone for most of the evening, so I
was left at home alone. This did not bother me so much
because I had my dog with me. About an hour into the
conversation, I heard the front door open and close, loud
as usual and figured that my parents must be home. I told
my friend to hold on and called out, "Mom? Dad?" When I
received no answer I figured it was because they could not
hear my voice from within my room. So, I stepped outside
my door and stood at the top of the stairs and called out
again. Still, no answer. This immediately freaked me out
because I knew full well that I had heard the front door
open and close. With my dog by my side and my friend
growing just as apprehensive as I on the other end of the
phone line, I slowly crept downstairs, keeping my body
close to the wall. Once I reached the bottom, I peered
into the living room and found it empty. Without a moments
hesitation I bolted up those stairs, ran into the bathroom
with my dog, slammed the door and leaned my back against it
since we had no locks. My heart was racing as I mumbled
hysterically to my friend, making her promise to stay on
the line until my folks returned. Dead or not, I was
chilled to the bone thinking that someone had entered my
home and disappeared without a trace.
My room has always had a "bad vibe" according to
numerous friends, that I too have felt, but have had to
deal with it since there is nowhere else I could sleep. I
always got the sense that something horrible had happened
inside those walls and I was constantly being watched. I
blame my sleeping troubles on these vibes since I have a
hard time falling asleep once darkness consumes the room
and am constantly woken up at night for no reason. I have
had a couple instances of Sleep Paralysis in that room and
tend to sleep peacefully anywhere else. Still, I have
learned to live with it as best I can.
Another time I was chatting away on the Internet
one night with the same friend that was on the phone the
night I heard someone enter my house. We began talking
about it and in an instant, my body froze and I became
aware of an overwhelming presence looming on the bottom
steps. I dared not turn my head to the right and
instinctively wrapped a blanket that had been sitting on
the back of my chair around my body, obscuring my
peripheral vision. I could not explain the terror I felt
or why it had hit me all of a sudden, but I could not bring
myself to look at the stairs in fear of seeing something
too horrible for words. This fear gripped me for over ten
minutes, my friend becoming worried that I was no longer
responding to her instant messages. I couldn't move; could
only stare at the computer screen breathing heavily, hoping
that this presence would go away. Then, as suddenly as it
had consumed me, it was gone and I snapped my head in the
direction of the stairs feeling that it was no longer
present. I haven't felt that kind of terror again, but I
will always remember how strange the experience was.
Another incident occurred while I was in the big
kitchen searching for something to eat. As I stood there,
lost in my thoughts I heard a very low series of feminine
whispers that I could not discern, but remarkably I
answered into the air, "I don't know" as if giving the
ghost an answer to a question that I could not even hear.
Surprisingly enough I was not frightened, just a little
curious as to why I had answered and continued on with my
task while the whispers faded away to nothing. It was
almost as if I had heard these whispering conversations all
the time and it only came natural to participate or just
ignore it. However, this was the first and last time I
would ever hear those whispers.
It is always an experience in itself to gaze out
the upstairs windows into the baseball size field adjacent
from our house. Always dark and foreboding at night and
strangely alluring in the day time. You always expect to
see something standing alone in the middle of the field,
leering at you from where you sit wide eyed. There is this
one spot behind the old shed on the outskirts of this field
that my dog would never venture. It was a spot of land
maybe 10 x 6 feet that the poor thing could not been
convinced to set foot on. I would literally have to walk
the dog completely around the spot or try unsuccessfully to
drag her across. It was like trying to get someone to step
around the edge of a pool of lava, knowing full well that
pain and death would be waiting if they dared take another
step. I always wondered if perhaps there was something
buried beneath that spot, but I may never know.
I still get the feeling of a looming presence
whenever I venture into the dark hallway separating the
computer room from the kitchen and also my own bedroom, but
I try to think happy thoughts and move along quickly. So
far, these visitors have not tried to hurt me and I don't
believe he/she/they will but it's always uncomfortable
knowing that invisible eyes will always be watching you.
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