Fulton Street, San Francisco
Mary, NY, USA
My brother Bob and two friends Julie and Matt all lived together in a house on Fulton Street in San Francisco. This was several years ago, but I remember well.
There was something frightening about this house. I didn't like to go there, but I would be forced to spend time there if I wanted to visit my brother. Many, many things have happened to people in this house. I'll tell you about one of my experiences.
It was a mutual friend Paul's birthday, and about 20 people were gathered in the kitchen, hangin' out, drinking booze, jokin' around, just having fun. I had to use the restroom so I went upstairs. The upstairs bathroom connects to the hallway, but also has a door that leads to Julie's walk-in closet and through that is her bedroom. Julie had the door from the bathroom to the hall locked so that people would have to go through her bedroom and through her walk-in closet in order to use the bathroom. The reason for this was that she had three kittens that she didn't want to escape from her bedroom and get trampled underfoot at the party, so she had the one bathroom door locked so as to keep better track of the kittens.
So, I went up the stairs toward the bathroom. I remember thinking that it was weird that there was no one in any of the other bedrooms upstairs because people like to go off on their own at parties to chat, or whatever. But I could see the other bedrooms because the doors were standing open and the lights were off. Everyone was indeed downstairs. I started down the hall toward Julie's bedroom door, intending to use the restroom. I went into her bedroom where I flicked on the light switch by the door. This made the kittens come running to see who was there. I played with them for a couple of minutes. Now I really had to go, so I went to the walk-in closet, walked through it and went to the bathroom. I entered and closed the door and locked it. Did my thing, washed my hands and opened the bathroom door. As I walked into the walk-in closet, I could see the bedroom light at the other end. Suddenly, the light turned off. I went into the bedroom and walked through it and flipped the switch up to turn the light back on. There was no one there. Thinking that one of my friends had played a joke on me, I opened the bedroom door and quickly went out into the hall. There was no one there. And no one in any other bedroom. I even looked over the banister and downstairs to see if I could see someone walking down the stairs after having turned off the light. No one. Must've been a loose wire or something, I thought, knowing that it wasn't.
I went to the top of the stairs, and took the first step down, when I suddenly felt what, to me felt like a large hand plant itself in the middle of my back. It only took a moment for me to realize what it was before it pushed me. I stumbled and grabbed the bannister. The only reason I didn't tumble down the stairs and break my neck was because I was so surprised that something was touching me, that I reached out at that exact moment and grabbed the railing. I didn't tumble down; I got my balance and ran down, knowing that what pushed me was not a human being. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I calmed my racing heart and walked into the kitchen where all my friends were gathered. I wanted to shout what had just happened to me, but I was very shaken up. I pulled my brother aside and told him what happened. He didn't laugh at me, or make fun of me. He knew, because he lived there.
Lots of people had strange things happen to them at that house. Julie had the cordless phone jump off base and fly across the room at her head one night. Another night she saw the chandelier swinging slowly back and forth. Matt had a strange experience that he told me about. He heard his answering machine speak out to him one night when it was unplugged. There are other roommates who have lived in the house over the years. One of them had something happen to him in that house that, to this day, he will not talk about no matter how much you beg. Julie and Matt went to try to find out if anyone died in the house and they found that the records for a 10 year period of time have disappeared. They don't live in that house anymore, and I am really glad because whatever was there didn't like them--especially Julie--and it wanted them out.
Other things have happened to me over the years. Here's another story. I was at my brother's house one night (different house in a different part of SF), and we were hangin' out, sitting on his bed, listening to music. I was reading the liner notes of the album that we were listening to when I became aware of an annoying sensation. I realized that I was unable to focus on the words of what I was reading because it was moving. At that moment, my brother called my name. I looked over at him and realized that the sensation that I was feeling was the bed moving. It was vibrating and moving back and forth. I jumped up off the bed and headed for the door, terrified. At that moment, my brother's roommate John came running out of the living room at the other end of the house. "It's happening again!!!" He shouted. We met up in the hallway, and we all stood there and looked at each other. I realized at that moment that the house was moving. Not shaking quickly like an earthquake, but moving in this slow tilt as if the house was a boat. It went back and forth, very slowly, back and forth. You could hear the house creaking. We were all standing there, riding it. I looked at my brother. "I'm outta here." I said, and headed down the stairs and out the front door. It was definitely not an earthquake, and I can't think of what else it might have been, but I think that's the last time I ever went to that house.