Throughout my life, I have always been fascinated with
the paranormal. The reason for this is twofold: I lost
many people when I was relatively young and I like to
believe that they are still around me. The second reason is
a less altruistic; contrary, its slightly more ominous - I
grew up in a haunted house.
From as long as I can remember, there was always
something "off" about my childhood home. Toilets would
flush by themselves; beds would shake violently; phantom
footsteps would run around in an upstairs bathroom; huge
crashing noises would ring through the house, but nothing
was broken; my dog would continuously bark at something
behind me that was not there. These occurrences were never
accompanied with any malicious feelings. I always had a
feeling that it was little boy and he was just trying to
play. As a result of the constant flushing of the
toilets, we nicknamed him the "Phantom Flusher".
However, there were times when the events got scary.
One time in particular made me feel very uneasy about
living in my house. It was a night of a summer storm - it
was rainy and cold; which is very rare for where I grew
up. I was 15 and I was babysitting two girls (13 & 11) at
my house, as both our parents had gone out together. At
this point I have to give a quick explanation of my house.
It has three floors: the bottom floor has the family room,
computer room and bathroom. The second floor has the
kitchen, living room and dining room. The trick about the
second floor is that there is two door that lead outside
that are almost side by side. The first door leads into
the kitchen. The second door leads into the living room,
but it is divided by the rest of the second floor by a
wall. We only use this door on Halloween. The top floor
has three bedrooms and a bathroom.
The three of us were watching TV downstairs in the family
room. We had been down there the entire night. It was
getting really cold down there, so I began to go upstairs
to the third floor to turn off the air conditioning.
However, when I reached the second floor, I had to stop.
It was freezing! I looked at the kitchen door - it was
closed tightly. On a whim, I went around the wall to check
the second door - it was wide open and still locked. This
unnerved me quite a bit. I thought someone got into the
house. So i took the biggest knife I could find and
searched all the upstairs rooms thoroughly. I found
nothing. I figured the wind must have somehow opened the
locked and never-used door.
I was still unnerved though and told the girls that if
they needed anything from upstairs to let me know and I
would go get it for them. About an hour later, the
youngest girl was thirsty. I began to climb the stairs and
once again, I was stopped in my tracks. I could hear
running water. I looked into the kitchen - the taps were
off. So I slowly went up to the bathroom. I walked inside
and found that the sink had been plugged, the tap was on
and there was water everywhere. I turned it off, threw some
towels on the ground, grabbed the girls and went to a
friend's house until our parents arrived home. To this
day, this event remains unexplainable to me - I was the
only one who was upstairs that night - so who turned on the