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House By The Cemetery

November 2002

Back In pre-historic times when I was still in high school, I moved with my family into a house that was as haunted as hell, pardon my language but I do mean Hell!

It was in the boring little town of Emporia Kansas. Sorry Fellow Ghost hunter's no address. I don't live there anymore thank god. I well tell you that it was in uncomfortable proximity to the town cemetery.

I can honestly say just about every day a hearse followed by a funeral procession passed our house.

It was a ranch style home built in the 1930s and had not been redecorated since. I still maintain that the previous owners should have been criminally charged; it was very disgusting, however, my parents gutted it and made it liveable.

When we moved in I choose the only room that didn't make me feel like hurling. It was that bad okay.

My room had pale pink walls and pink carpeting. Since it was in the front of the house I had a pretty view of a giant old oak tree. I put my bed in the windows. Had we moved in in the fall when the leaves were off the monstrous tree, I would have realized my error. For that time of year afforded me a view of rows upon rows of headstones, lovely eh?. Not what I wanted to look out my window and see every night before falling asleep.

The first night in our new home I learned that some of the previous occupants never left. I stayed up late reading and decided to get a snack from the kitchen. You had to walk though the family room to get there. On my way back through the family room I saw him. A man with no head floating in front of the mantle. He was just a gray mist I could only make out a shoulder, part of a suite jacket, white shirt and tie. I stared at it frozen with fear, when my legs worked again I dashed to my room. Once I regained myself I decided to go back to the kitchen to get some water for my thirsty cat. Sure enough he was still there but this time I didn't feel so scared, in fact I felt a slice of curiously and friendship.

After that I saw the headless man many times, always in the family room by the mantel, however not all the ghosts were so friendly.

Almost right away I began to notice rooms my cat wouldn't go into, horrendous odors, footsteps and so on. The guest room next to mine was the worst. my cat wouldn't even walk past that door. The windows in there would open and close on their own and an antique rocking chair would rock constantly. The room was icy cold and your hair stood on end when you went in there. Even the one wall that my room, and the guest room shared, was icy to the touch.
I always kept my crucifix on that wall.

The scariest thing was the guttural almost inhuman moans. They would start out soft and gradually get louder sometimes making the pictures shake on the walls. This didn't happen very often, which if you asked me was too much.

The basement was very creepy and full of cold spots. It felt like someone was following you, you would feel a cold breath on the back of your neck and turn to find no one visible there. I was scared to go down there alone.

Everyday when I came home from school and would be home alone, I would hear heavy footsteps coming from the unfinished part of the basement. The footsteps were loud and usually followed by even louder crashing noises. I got so frightened I almost called the police once. I yelled down the stairs " Get out!, I'm calling 911, I know your down there!" After that the footsteps stopped for that day.

Once while floating in the old pool with a friend we saw a dark haired women watching us from my parents bedroom window. My friend said " Look there's your mom!" but I was home alone and both of my parents were at work.

Once I stupidly decided to move downstairs because the old bedroom down there was really very big. As soon as I turned off the lights I became aware of a big dark figure lurking near the foot of the bed. With my favorite pillow under one arm and my cat under the other I high-tailed it back to my room upstairs.

When my mom asked me what changed my mind about the basement room I, I just told her it was too dark down there.

It wasn't until years later we actually started talking about our experiences in the house with each other.

While living there I had the worst nightmares of my life and would often wake up screaming in a cold sweat. Since the last night I spent there I have never had another nightmare.

Once when I couldn't sleep someone or something lifted my quilt from the foot of my bed and tucked me in. That didn't help.

Okay it's getting late so I'll finish with the strangest thing that ever happened to me in that house.

It was fall and I was laying in bed one night staring at the rows of headstones and crypts. I spotted a round red ball of light in the distance. I watched it float quickly from the old part of the graveyard through to the new, across the street, though the trees and right up to my bedroom windows. Then it floated back around the trees some more and finally disappeared. I spent the rest of the night cowering under my covers.

That's some of the freaky things that happened in that house. There was so much ghostly activity all the time that I could write a book. I won't tonight.

Take my advice never, never, live in a house even in the same neighborhood as a cemetery, however quaint the dwelling I assure it's not for the meek.

Sadly an elderly couple bought the house from my parents I only pray they're alright.

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