This story takes place in my Grandmother's old house in
Fostoria, OH. Back in the late 70's early 80's my
grandmother met Jack. She had gotten a divorce from my
grandpa years before. Jack, from what I remember of him,
was a great guy. He died in a work accident when I was
still young. Zedda was Jack's mother and she lived, and
died, in the house the story takes place in.
The layout for the house is really simple: As you walk in
the front door you enter the living room. To the right is
the downstairs bedroom and straight ahead is the kitchen.
In the kitchen is the door to the bathroom and the door to
the upstairs. The upstairs itself was just two bedrooms.
To reach one you had to go through the other. The back yard
wasn't in anyway "large" but it wasn't just a plot of
grass either. It was surrounded by a chain link fence, and
at the far back left corner (from the house) was a small
shed that the lawn mower and gardening tools were kept in.
Now back to the story. I never met Zedda myself, or at
least not that I remember. She died when I was very young
in the downstairs bedroom. I think from cancer. I do know
that her and my mother never got along.
After Jack died my grandma moved back to Ohio from
Florida and took up residence in the old house. She used
both upstairs bed rooms for storage, filling both rooms
with accumulated nicknacks and boxes. After a few years
she left the house and her belongings to take care of my
great-uncle Dale.
During the time she was gone my brother, who is 9 years
older than me, and his friend Kenny moved into the
Fostoria house. Everyone in my family knows the house is
haunted but it never seemed to be a big deal. Brett and
Kenny had lived there for a couple months and noises of
settling were common due to how old the house was. One
night Brett came home to find Kenny sitting in his car
with the engine running. Thinking That he locked himself
out he knocked on the car window to wake Kenny up. Come to
find out that Kenny had been home for hours and hadn't
locked himself out. He had been watching TV in the living
room when he heard thumps from upstairs. Thinking it was
the house settling he shrugged it off. At least until he
heard what he could only describe as "footsteps." Now as I
said both rooms upstairs were packed full with grandma's
debris. There was no room for someone to walk up there,
never mind that Kenny was the only one home. He said he
went upstairs to see if a raccoon or something had come in
through a window.
At this point of his story Kenny stopped
speaking and refuses to this day to go on. He also never
set foot in the house again. Brett had to pack up his
stuff and hand it to him through the door.
Fast forward a couple years....
Brett had moved out shortly after Kenny. My grandma was
still looking after Dale. My mother and stepdad were
getting a divorce. Grandma said we could stay in the house
until mom had gotten back on her feet. I was 14 and had
just started high school.
We cleared out the first of the rooms upstairs for my
room while mom slept in the downstairs room. During the
clearing we found the urn with Zedda's ashes. Of course I
was disgusted so I put it as far into the other room as I
could. At this time the far bedroom was packed full of
stuff, floor to ceiling junk. The room was separated from
my room by a door with one of those old hook and eye
locks. Feeling uneasy with those ashes so close I of
course locked it.
We had been there a few weeks when I noticed that the door was unlocked. Thinking mom had gone
in there for something I just locked it again. I remember
it was late, I was a night owl so of course I was up. I
was trying my best to sleep because of school the next day
when I heard a *thump* from the other room. I laid there
for a few minutes and then I heard another one. For all
purposes it sounded like someone walking. Being the brave
14 year old man I promptly covered my head with my
blankets and lay there barely daring to breathe. As I lay
there the sound of movement increased until it was on the
other side of the dividing door. Now I was REALLY scared.
I heard the door shake a little as though someone was
pushing on it and found it locked. Now remember the lock
was on MY SIDE. A few minutes went by and I was trying to
gather the courage to peek when I heard the door open!!
Freaking I burrowed down even further and began praying as
I heard "it" walk by my bed and down the stairs. Somehow I
fell asleep that night, don't ask me how, and the next day
the door to the other room was closed but unlocked.
Now
this became a regular thing throughout our stay there. I
didn't tell my mom because I knew she'd never believe me.
I was 14 remember.
I tried everything from prayers to putting some old
crucifix I found over the door to no avail. I'd have
nightmares of waking up to a half rotten apparition
floating over me. It never happened but it still sends
shivers over me thinking of it. The worst were the nights
I'd go to sleep and wake up to that stupid door being
unlocked. Being awake when it happened was one thing, but
who knows what the ghost did while I was asleep?
Well after a while we moved out and into another place.
Thankfully the ghost didn't follow. But years later when I
was 18 I moved back into that house with my brother Brett.
The only condition was I got the DOWNSTAIRS room;)
After a couple months with no problems I was walking outside
smoking in the backyard. As I came to the small shed I
heard something like a woman humming lightly. Curious I
opened the shed door but no one was there. As I opened the
door the humming stopped in mid note. Later that night I
told my brother about it and he gave me a wierd look. It
seems that the only reason he took the upstairs was
because he had put the urn in the shed!
Thanks for taking the time to read this. I just wanted to
say in closing that all the events in this story are
completely, utterly, and unquestionably true.
Have a nice
night!!
Contact me here: daishar366@yahoo.com
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